Spontaneous Romanticism
by Liomi
Summary: Lords and Ladies! Predators and Prey! How do the elves of fair Lórien play? (Work In Progress)
1. The Appeal of Marchwardens

  
  


**Spontaneous Romanticism  
A Lord of the Rings Fan-Fiction Story by Liomi**

**Timeline:**  
Non-specific, Third Age 

**Author's Note**  
There are some non-canon elements to the behavior of the Elves in this tale, if that sort of thing bothers you, I suggest not reading any further.  
This story was written in the spirit of fun and should be taken lightly, for it is _highly_ ridiculous in nature. 

**Disclaimer:**  
I do not claim ownership over any concepts or characters that are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and his estate.  
My stories are written for personal gratification only and I receive no financial gain from said stories.  
All original concepts and characters are my property, precious. 

**Chapter One: The Appeal of Marchwardens**

Haldir had never been so relieved to see the gates of Caras Galadhon, at least as far as he could recall. For the entire day's journey from the borders of Lórien to the heart of the Golden Wood he'd had to listen to the sappy spewings of one of his younger wardens, who was, apparently, quite besotted. But then, after all his time spent as the Captain of the Galadhrim, he'd come to expect a certain amount of romantic nonsense from the younglings so close to a festival. Still, it didn't make the drivel any easier to listen to for hours on end. He swore his eyes would become permanently stuck up in his head if he had to roll them one more time at some particularly syrupy comment. 

Haldir turned and sneered at Rúmil, who walked behind him listening intently to the gushing young warrior. Of course his brother enjoyed this sort of talk, and only served to egg the doe-eyed lover on. Haldir had the unpleasant notion that it was not only because Rúmil so relished the topic of romance, but also because he knew his older brother did not. 

Suddenly the young besottee in question, whose name was Tiniond, noticed the city ahead and redoubled his poetic efforts, apparently in homage of drawing so near to his 'silvery-tressed-azure-eyed-image-of-splendor-and-elegance', which Haldir gathered was some sort of Elf-maid creature. He refrained from reminding the smitten youth that almost _all_ the maidens of Lothlórien had 'silvery' hair and 'azure' eyes, and for what it mattered, so did most of the males. 

Once inside the city, Haldir quickened his pace and cut a path directly toward the upper hall, putting blessed distance between his poor ears and the sugary tones of Tiniond's crooning. He was eager to bathe and feel the comfortable seat of his reading chair beneath his backside, but this could wait, first he would report to his Lord. Hopefully by the time he left the upper halls the platforms near his quarters would be devoid of any and all loitering young wardens who lived in the chambers below. Haldir smiled at the notion of peace and quiet, climbing up the final few flets to the Lord and Lady's court. 

A small cluster of young Elf-maids suddenly materialized from the archway above. They descended directly toward him and he had to quickly suppress the frown that leap to his face. They didn't pause when they saw him, but the way they hushed their conversation and pinkened at the tips of their ears warned him of what was to come. 

Dread filled the Lórien Captain. Even the filthy, foul smelling bands of orcs with their poison tipped blades and gnashing teeth seemed to pale in the horror of these fair haired, flowery creatures. They eyed him with keen, predatorial interest, knowing well that they outnumbered him, and also that he could not turn and flee without looking deliberate. 

"Oh Marchwarden!" Exclaimed one, treating him with a brilliant smile, "you have returned to us from patrol at long last!" 

"We worried _so_ for your safety!" Gushed another. 

"Oh please!" Raved a third, indignantly, "the Marchwarden knows how to take care of himself, to worry for his safety is to not have faith in his superior skills!" 

This comment was met with delighted tittering by the entire cluster. Haldir only barely succeeded in not rolling his eyes. 

"Well, superior skills or no, we are still relieved to have our brave Captain back from his duty!" Declared the fourth, "will you be staying for the festival?" They all regarded him with intense interest, as if the very fate of Middle-earth rested on the reply to that question. 

"Not likely," he told them politely. Four crestfallen expressions flashed before him in an instant. 

"Such a pity!" Sighed one, "we were all _so_ looking forward to seeing you dance again." 

"But yet, it is understandable, for surely your absence is felt already on our borders!" Crooned another. The other two nodded vigorously, treating him to gazes of adoration befitting only the bravest and most longsuffering of martyrs. 

Haldir felt a chuckle coming on, their severity was nothing short of highly amusing. "You have my _deepest_ regrets, ladies," he coughed, masking the amusement in his tone, "but I'm afraid I must beg your leave, for I have a most _urgent_ report to make to Lord Celeborn." 

Quickly they cleared a path for him to continue up, and he congratulated himself on the crafty escape, even as their wistful glances and lilting sighs followed him through the archway. Haldir made a note to himself to deliver the report slowly, and linger for as long as possible to give them time to clear off. 

It really was very inconvienient that he had to travel about his home in such a fashion, avoiding open areas and well travelled platforms to escape the fawnings of Lothlórien's eligible masses. Would they give him no peace? He was well beyond the 'appropriate' age for marriage, having long ago forsaken the idea of surrendering his freedom to the cluches of a spouse. But yet they persisted, these little droves of husband-hungry beasts. 

~ * ~

"...and so the handsome prince rescued the beautiful princess and whisked her away to his father's palace where they were married, and lived out the rest of their days in happiness!" Read Andúnil, punctuating her words as she snapped the book shut. "And that, as they say, dearest sister, is 'the end'!" 

Lirinwen tilted her head to one side in reflection. "That was beautifully read, my sister, but I do wonder at mortal romanticism, are they always so-so...spontaneous?" 

"I do not know," replied Andúnil with a pretty shrug, "but should I ever meet a mortal, I shall be sure to ask." 

Lirinwen stood and smoothed her hands over the bodice of her gown, a slight frown coming to her lips. "What a horrid thought!" 

It was Andúnil's turn to tilt her head. "What's that? Spontaneous romanticism?" 

"Nay," replied the younger Elf-maid, "meeting a mortal." 

Andúnil sniffed delicately and stood as well. "Quite right," she agreed, moving to replace the storybook in its nook on the shelf. "Thank the Valar we should never have to." 

Lirinwen giggled suddenly to herself as if struck by a particularily amusing thought. "That is, unless, the wardens decide to start welcoming them to our borders!" 

Both maidens broke out into a fit of merriment at the absurdity of the suggestion. 

Andúnil was the first to recover, she eyed her younger sibling with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Speaking of wardens, the shift changes today, and we both know what _that_ means!" 

Lirinwen allowed the tips of her ears to redden faintly at her older sister's not so subtle teasing. "I most certainly have _no_ idea what you are talking about!" 

Andúnil smiled knowingly and picked up the hairbrush laying on a side table. She strode up behind her sibling and gently began to run it through the maiden's pale tresses. Lirinwen smiled at the affectionate gesture, relishing both the feel of the brush caressing her hair and the feel of the butterflies that danced in her stomach as she recalled the face of a particular warden. 

"Do you think he has thought about me while away?" She asked in a girlishly timid whisper, "or perhaps even missed me?" 

"How could he not miss _you_, dearest sister?" Soothed the elder Elf, "everyone knows you are the light that shines in his eyes, and when at last you join the ranks of maturity during this next autumn festival, I am certain he will make it official." 

Lirinwen let a shiver of anticipation run through her body. "Oh Andú! It seems like an age until then!" Her voice sounded suspiciously close to taking on an unattractive whine. 

"Do not complain, Liri! Some of us are not so fortunate as you to have a paramour," she sighed, giving the silky mane one final swipe, "I am already well past the age of courtship, there will never be a handsome warden to run into Andúnil's arms." 

The younger maiden pouted at her sister's sudden melancholy and tried to make light of the situation. "Then perhaps you ought to turn your sights to more familiar ground? There are many things just as lovely as wardens to be had!" 

Andúnil swatted her sibling on the bottom with the back of the brush, earning a satisfying yelp for her trouble. "After living with you for so long dearest sister?" She replied tartly, "no indeed! I shall never find another maiden to match your beauty and wit, and would only find myself sorely disappointed!" 

Lirinwen fluttered her eyes and sighed dramatically. "Well, I cannot argue with that!" She crooned, "poor, dear, sweet Andúnil! What ever will you do? Perhaps we ought to pack you off to the savages of Mirkwood where the favors flow more freely?" 

Andúnil gasped in righteous shock and aimed to give her junior another swat, but the younger Elf anticipated the attack and danced out of the way, her eyes bright with laughter. 

~ * ~

Lord Celeborn's office was situated in a quiet corner of the upper halls, fashioned from a private, sunlit alcove. Haldir had always admired the comfortable little room, here there was no pomp or formality. Bookshelves lined most of the walls, crammed with various tomes, scrolls and many an interesing object. The furniture was elegant but comfortable and well used, made to fit the backsides of friends or those seeking casual council from the Lord of the Golden Wood. 

Haldir found the door slightly ajar and knocked on the frame, poking his head in. The Lord was sitting at his desk, rifling through some documents with a thoughtful expression upon his face. 

He looked up and smiled. "Haldir! It is well to have you returned my friend! Come, sit, let us hear your report." 

Haldir acknowledged the invitation with a bow and sank himself into a seat across from the desk. "It is a pleasure to be home, my lord," he began with a slight smile of his own, "our northern borders have been quiet these months past, there was only one small skirmish, ten Orc in total, none of the wardens suffered any injury." 

Celeborn arched an eyebrow. "And yet you are uneasy." 

Haldir grimaced, Lady Galadriel was not the only perceptive one in her family. "I am..." he paused to search for the proper words to explain himself, "...affected, shall we say, by the coming of the festival." 

The Lord grinned in understanding. "Ah! I see, I see," his grin widened and he tilted his head slightly, "no one will have you as a companion then?" 

Haldir inclined his head and straightened in his seat. He knew the Elf-lord was only poking a bit of fun at him, but pride ran deeply through this warden. "The opposite, my lord." He replied curtly. 

"A most unfortunate predicament," sympathized the older Elf with a hint of mirth. 

"My lord finds the situation amusing," growled Haldir. 

Celeborn could not suppress his smile. "My apologies Captain, I am trying not to be amused." 

Haldir raised one imperial eyebrow and attempted to change the subject. "My wardens tell me we have visitors from Rivendell with us presently." 

"Indeed," confirmed the Lord, "the company from Lord Elrond's household has been with us for over a fortnight now." 

"Ah, are there any among the party I am familiar with?" The question came out deliberately vague. 

Celeborn smiled. "Aye, one or two individuals of your acquaintance I believe." 

The Captain tried in vain to hide the expression of alarm that crossed his face. "Oh?" He cleared his throat, "Elladan and Elrohir I imagine?" 

The Lord hesitated a moment before answering, clearly enjoying the other's discomfort. "Nay, the sons of Elrond are not among the Rivendell party." 

Haldir was visibly relieved. "A shame, my brothers will no doubt be disappointed." 

"Then it will please your brothers to know that we expect my grandsons in a weeks time," replied Celeborn with cheer, "they've been riding with the Rangers and have sent word of their intent to escort the Rivendell company on their return trip." 

Haldir paled. "Oh, I see, well, that is fortunate indeed," he croaked, "how long do you expect the party to remain?" 

Celeborn sighed and pondered for a moment. "Well, at least three or four weeks, but perhaps more," he treated Haldir to another grin, "so your brothers will have plenty of time to enjoy the company of their friends." 

Haldir made no effort to suppress a groan, slumping his shoulders in defeat. No one brought out the worst in Rúmil and Orophin like those blasted twins. It was promising to be a long, trying, month in which time he doubted he'd get the peace and solitude he'd been looking forward to. 


	2. The Perils of Strolling

  
  
**Chapter Two: The Perils of Strolling**

"Sweet Elbereth! So this is to be my end? Slowly drained of blood by the devices of this wicked needle until I faint from the loss and pass into the Halls of Mandos!" Exclaimed Andúnil, as she pricked her finger for the nineteenth time that afternoon. To say that she was exasperated would have been a grave understatement given the dramatic level of this, her newest vocalization of distress. 

Normally she did not prick herself ever, she was, after all, an Elf, and one most adept at sewing. But in being an Elf, she was also quite susceptible to great indulgence in her favorite emotions, and could easily lose herself even unto her own end by way of malicious embroidery needles. Today the indulgence was particularily keen, and the emotion none other than raw surliness brought on by the loss of her lovesick sister to the infamous Tiniond's company. 

"Well!" She huffed, setting her work aside carelessly, "that simply will not do! I shall take a turn out of doors and give the offensive instrument time to consider its trespasses!" With that she stood and yanked her evening mantle from its customary peg by the door, pinning it into place with a curtness that dared it to defy her. The warm light of the waning day cast a golden hue over the mellyrn that would have stilled the heart of even the hardest soul, drenching the boughs of Caras Galadhon in splendor. But even in this great beauty, Andúnil found fault, for her mood permitted not even a small allowance of good humor. 

She left her modest quarters behind at a brisk pace that suggested an urgent errand moreso than a pleasuresome stroll, and began to descend toward the forest floor to escape the 'fearfully irksome' glare of the setting sun. 

***

"You know, brother, I'm beginning to worry that we shall never get him married off," sighed Rúmil in mock concern. Orophin looked up from his carving only briefly to glance over, having a clear view into their quarters. There sat Haldir, earnestly engrossed in some sort of tome, resting comfortably in his favorite chair. 

"I believe, dear brother," replied Orophin, looking back down at his work, "that this would distress him greatly if you brought it to his attention." 

Rúmil could not suppress the snigger at thought of Haldir distressed over his marital status, wringing his hands and moaning plaintively over his fate. "Naturally we shall have to give him our aid, after all, he is our brother, it is our duty." 

It was Orophin's turn to snigger. "What did you have in mind oh self-sacrificing one?" 

Rúmil plucked the little carving deftly out of his sibling's fingers. Orophin snarled and made an unsuccessful grab for his stolen work. "Come now Orophin! I only want your full attention to explain the details, then you shall have your pretty rabbit returned to you!" 

"It is a bird you half-wit!" 

"Is it really?" Quipped the thief in apparent horror. Orophin delivered a quick blow to his brother's ribs, earning a grunt of pain from Rúmil who promptly dropped the little object and made a lunge for his sibling even as the younger Elf attempted to catch the carving. Both were thrown off balance for a moment, but managed to recover in time for a new succession of tackles. The little half-carved bird plummeted toward the forest floor, momentarily forgotten. 

Orophin had only just managed to pin Rúmil on his stomach when an indignant shriek reached their ears. The brothers looked at each other in panic, both simultaneously realizing the implications of such a noise. They peered down from the limb on which they were perched, and winced at the sight below. There stood a red-faced maiden with murderously stormy grey eyes, glaring back up at them, a little piece of carved wood in one hand, the other balled into a fist. 

"Might this be yours?" She growled in their direction, brandishing the bit of wood. 

Rúmil quickly pointed to Orophin, "it belongs to him good lady!" 

Orophin gasped at his brother's treachery and shot the offender a seething look before turning back to the frazzled Elf-maid. "It is mine, to be certain, for this lout is not capable of such masterful knife-skill, but it was he that stole it from my hands and dropped it upon ye fair one!" 

It was Rúmil's turn to gasp in outrage. "I did no such thing you snake! Had you not assaulted me with your violent tantrums I would still have the crude creation in my possession!" 

Andúnil observed as the round of arguing continued, each accusing the other of wrong to the point of such ridiculousness that she began to suspect they were not as sincerely contrite about the situation as they ought to be. Unnoticed by the brothers, she calmly snapped the carving in two halves and fired them sharply. The first struck Rúmil between the eyes, the second bounced squarely off of Orophin's nose. The former yelped, the latter squawked and they both came tumbling to the ground in an awkward heap. 

"I find the fault to be joint, and thusly was the punishment, and so shall be the apology," she proclaimed as they sat up in bewilderment, each rubbing the particular area of his face that stung from the blow. Quickly they responded with the demanded verbal fee, and the maiden stalked off, but not before treating them to a final, withering glare. 

"I think I'm in love," murmured Rúmil as he watched her form disappear among the trees. 

"Masochist," grumbled Orophin, picking himself up off of the ground. 

***

Andúnil's encounter with the bickering brothers left her in an even fouler mood than she'd set out in. Their wide-eyed apologies had done nothing to satisfy her temper, and she was seriously considering the notion of turning around to seek the pair out for a good thrashing when her bowed head collided with a rather solid object. She was sent reeling backwards in surprise, and only her natural surefootedness saved her from a most unbecoming tumble. 

The second surprise of the moment was that the solid object which she had struck was not an object at all, but instead an Elf-lord, and one who seemed rather unaffected by being headbutted at that. He looked down upon her with a knitted brow, his hands clasped behind his back. It first struck Andúnil to be miffed that he would have apparently been perfectly satisfied to let her tumble had she been so inclined, but after that initial thought her irritation decreased quickly, for his beauty was of such a magnitude as to be uncommon even among elves. He was taller than any she'd met before, and his hair was a lustrous golden hue unlike the paler, silvery tresses of her Lórien kin. 

"Sweet Elbereth!" She exclaimed, taking a step backwards. 

"I beg your pardon my lady?" He spoke, his voice rich and masculine. Andúnil felt an unfamiliar but rather pleasant fluttering in her stomach. 

"Surely you are one of the Valar!" She responded in awe, forgetting her pride quite completely. 

The radiant being blinked. "I most certainly am not," he smirked. 

"Oh!" Was the only reply she could summon, slowly regaining her composure even as embarrassment began to set in. They regarded each other for a few moments longer, the silence stretching into an awkward length. Andúnil's cheeks began to redden, though his face remained impassive. 

"I am very sorry that I bumped into your, my lord," she said at last, the fluttering in her stomach now having escalated to a most unsettling degree, "and also that I called you a Vala," she added for good measure. 

"I've been called worse," was his clipped reply. 

Andúnil wasn't certain if she ought to laugh, but thought better of risking it, so instead she merely smiled, "I'm sure!" He raised an eyebrow at that and the redness faded from her cheeks, replaced by a horrified pallor. "I mean, I'm not sure! Or at least sure that-that..." 

"Please," he interrupted, flicking his eyes skyward for a moment, "do not trouble yourself, I am not offended." 

"Oh! Yes! Of course!" She tittered, the fluttering now too overwhelming to be born, "well, it was lovely meeting you my lord! Perhaps I shall see you again, good day!" She made a half-hearted attempt at an elegant curtsey, but it came out rather gracelessly. 

"Indeed," he replied with a nod. Andúnil scurried off toward her rooms as fast as her feet could carry her. On the upside, all surliness and thoughts of thrashing had completely dissolved from her mind. 


	3. The Trouble With Siblings

  
  
**Chapter Three: The Trouble With Siblings**

Even through her elation at having Tiniond back in Caras Galadhon and a festival to attend that evening, Lirinwen could sense that something was not right with her sister. Andúnil had been unnaturally quiet the past few days, and though she was not a characteristically loud sort of being, she was at least usually engaging. The younger maiden was concerned, it was not like her sister to be so withdrawn. It was as if she were permanently distracted, sometimes even unhearing when Lirinwen spoke aloud. This would simply _not_ do. 

"Dearest sister," the younger Elf-maid spoke, touching Andúnil lightly on the shoulder, "we must start preparations for the festival, it is a scant few hours away!" 

The elder maiden glanced up as if surprised to see someone standing beside her. "Oh, yes, of course, what have you decided to wear then? I'll help you put it on." 

Lirinwen frowned, "why, the white gown you helped me sew specifically for the festival of course, do you not remember?" 

"Oh! Yes, certainly I remember! My apologies sister, I know not where my mind ran off to!" Chirped Andúnil, quickly standing. She bustled over to the wardrobe where their dresses hung neatly and pulled from its depths a beautiful white garment, one they'd toiled on together for nearly a fortnight. "You will look so enchanting!" Proclaimed the elder, managing to muster some enthusiasm. "Come! Let's see it on you!" 

Lirinwen obliged happily. 

***

"I am _not_ attending and that is final," insisted Haldir. His brothers glanced at each other with matching frowns. 

"But it is the autumn festival!" Protested Rúmil, "you cannot refuse to attend!" 

Haldir replied without even glancing up from his book. "Watch me." 

"Be reasonable Haldir!" Chimed in Orophin, "this is a very important event in the Golden Wood, how would it look if the Captain of the Galadhrim did not attend one of our most anticipated celebrations?" 

"Perhaps it would look as if he had no appetite for frilly clothes, silly maidens and unnecessary frivolity," suggested the eldest brother, still avoiding their gazes. 

"Oho!" Purred Rúmil, trying a different tactic, "so our brother is afraid of maidens! At last the truth is revealed!" 

"Don't be daft Rúmil," came the Captain's disdainful reply, "what you see as fear is more accurately described as contempt." 

"Oh my! Brother, did you hear that?" Gasped Orophin, "our Haldir finds maidens contemptuous! All these long years and we've been mistaken in his gender preference!" Rúmil's eyes widened in mock horror at his younger sibling's startling revelation. At last Haldir looked up from his reading to fix an icy glare upon Orophin. 

Rúmil could not suppress the giggle at seeing his older brother's face, "indeed, you seemed to have unearthed a great secret!" 

Haldir took a half-hearted swat in their direction, but both were able to remove themselves from his reach in time. "Be gone, both of you!" He growled, returning his attention to his book, "I grow weary of your mischief." The younger brothers exchanged frowns again. 

"If you do not put on something nice and come with us to the festival, we are going to encourage every male who has ever looked at you amorously that you wish to be ardently and publicly pursued!" 

Haldir snapped the book shut so suddenly both his siblings jumped back. "You wouldn't dare," came the snarl. 

Orophin took a deep breath and held his head high, "even the humans, and dwarves too, if we can find any!" 

"Damn the both of you!" 

Rúmil and Orophin exchanged small, victorious grins. 

***

"What do you _mean_ you don't want to attend?!" Cried Lirinwen, parking her fists on her hips in annoyance. 

Andúnil sighed, "I've already been to dozens of autumn festivals dearest, I've...grown weary of them," she lied. 

"Andúnil, sister mine, that is a complete falsehood! You'd best tell me the truth or you'll not ever hear the end of it, that I promise you!" 

The elder maiden suddenly seemed to find the study of her lap most intriguing. "I have made a fool of myself in front of someone very significant, and I do not wish risk finidng myself in that someone's presence again." 

"I beg your pardon?" Lirinwen was caught completely off guard, not having expected her sister to give up so easily. 

"I have it on good authority that the someone I wish to avoid will be at the autumn festival, so you see, I cannot attend dearest." 

"Oh," replied the younger Elf-maid. She pondered this revelation for some minutes. "Well, who is it then?" She asked at length. Andúnil pursed her lips as if the name forming in her throat was set to leave a bitter taste in her mouth. She hesitated, shooting Lirinwen a quick glance, the younger Elf tilted her head and leaned forward. "Come along then, out with it!" She persisted. Andúnil sighed. 

"Well, it seems there is an individual of high stature come recently to attend our Lord and Lady..." began the elder Elf-maid. 

"Sweet Elbereth!" Gasped Lirinwen, "you don't mean...?" 

Andúnil's head sunk in shame, "aye, the one and only, oh sister, it was positively mortifying!" 

Lirinwen wedged herself next to her sibling and grasped the elder maid by her shoulders. "I have heard his beauty is beyond compare! Tell me, what was he like?" Her tone held none of the concern or pity Andúnil had been hoping for. 

"Back you orc!" Cried the mourner, "you'll see him well enough for yourself at the festival, leave me to my misery and be gone! I'll not hear any more of these insignificant questions while I am in such a state!" 

Lirinwen pouted, "come now dearest, surely it could not have been so awful as all this? What did you do?" 

Andúnil sighed again, "well, I insulted him and made a mockery of myself." 

"That is all?" Quipped the younger maid. 

Andúnil shot her sister a glare. "That is plenty I assure you!" She snarled, then blinked and regained her distraught composure, "oh yes, and also I headbutted him." 

"Oh," replied Lirinwen with a frown, "now that _is_ unfortunate." 


	4. A Promising Start

  
  
**Chapter Four: A Promising Start**

They were stalking him, he was certain of it, and there was no place to hide. Haldir remained calm, it was crucial that he do so, for they could smell fear. Studying his nearby surroundings with a seasoned warrior's eye, he waited for any sign of enemy advancement. A sharp blow to the ribs caught him off guard, quickly he turned the full force of his most furious glare toward its source. 

"Would you quit all that scowling? You're scaring off the ladies!" Growled Rúmil, seemingly immune to his brother's death-stare. 

"That _is_ the desired effect, fool," hissed the Captain. 

Rúmil shot his sibling a withering look and folded his arms. "Well, maybe that is what _you_ desire, but I have different plans for my evening!" He retorted, "and you and your scowling are not a part of those plans." The younger Elf made his move to walk off, but Haldir caught hold of his forearm and held it fast. 

"Stay! There is strength in numbers!" Insisted the scowler, his eyes darting about quickly to affirm that none of the enemy had infiltrated the perimeter during his brief distraction. 

Rúmil didn't struggle, instead he tilted his head to one side and knit his brows together. "You really are afraid of maidens, aren't you?" It was less a question than a statement, and his voice was filled with genuine awe. 

Haldir released the imprisoned forearm hastily, "don't be ridiculous," he grumbled as he squared his shoulders and straightened his tunic. 

"I am sorry, my brother, I did not realize," spoke the younger Elf, touching the Captain lightly on the shoulder, "I will stand with you until Orophin returns and make certain you are kept safe." 

There was no doubt in Haldir's mind that he was being mocked. Under normal circumstances he was able to remain unaffected by such teasing, but somehow the combination of his discomfort, the large crowd of merrymakers and the three bottles of wine he'd consumed (before allowing himself to be dragged out his rooms), caused an unusual reaction. Indignation. Ah, very well, so it was not an emotion all that foreign to the proud Marchwarden, but seldom did he feel so driven to react to it. 

A maiden passed near to them, her eyes fixed on some other point across the glade. She was conservatively attired in demure shades of grey, and walked alone. Haldir charged forward, planting himself firmly in her path. "Can you dance?" He barked. 

The Elf-maid had apparently been distracted to such an alarming degree that her reflexes were not what they should have been. Luckily, she'd not been walking very quickly, and the impact didn't manage to upend either of them. Recovering gracefully did not seem to be this lady's forte. "Sweet Elbereth!" Cried she, flailing ever so slightly. Rúmil had to clamp a hand over his mouth to prevent a howl of laughter from escaping. 

Haldir stood rooted in place, his mouth open as if he meant to say something, if only something would come to mind. Rúmil felt his knees begin to buckle even as his shoulders shook, an unbecoming snort emitted from his person. Hearing it, the maiden turned her bewildered gaze upon him, then narrowed her eyes in recognition. 

***

The Glade of Gathering had seldom looked as splendid to Andúnil's eyes. Lanterns of every color reflected their light against the mellyrn, and the sky itself shone down upon them, bejewled with stars and crowned by a full moon. Ribbons and banners wove a splendid tapestry against the trees, and the air was filled with the exquisite sound of elven string instruments. 

The sisters were met at the entrance by Tiniond, decked out in finery and positively aglow with delight at seeing his paramour. He gushed for nearly three minutes on the shade of the younger Elf-maid's gown before the elder felt inclined to interrupt. 

"The dress is white, Marchwarden," she informed him with severity, placing a hand on his elbow. Andúnil kissed her sister farewell, and made a polite departure. 

Carefully she skirted the crowd, her eyes alert for any sign of golden hair. As it was, he proved easy to pick out, his height serving to raise his fair head above the rest of the assembly. He was also the only person wearing red, which, even though it was a dark shade of the color, made him stick out like a cave troll at a hobbit wedding. His back was turned to her, and he was speaking with dark-haired Elf-lord Andúnil did not recognize. 

All at once there came a great bellow only inches from her face. The sound had barely pushed through her conciousness before she felt herself collide with something solid. As it had been only days ago, again the something was not a something at all, but a someone. Andúnil suspected she may have cried out, and certainly she flailed a little, but at least she didn't tumble. 

This time it was only a warden she'd managed to stumble into, albeit he was a nice looking one. Where had she seen his face before? Someone snorted off to her left, catching her attention. She turned her gaze toward the sound and was faced with a second warden, this one in the throes of barely contained laughter. He too was familiar, and Andúnil remembered why with perfect clarity. 

"You!" She snapped, "what is this new game?" 

"Me?" Squeaked Rúmil, his eyes widening in innocence even as he attempted to swallow the last of his mirth. A sharp remark sprang to Andúnil's lips, but suddenly she remembered why the Elf before her was familiar and she gasped and turned back to him. He stood there still, looking conflicted. 

"Oh! You are Haldir, Captain of the Galadhrim!" She exclaimed. 

"I know," he replied, nonplussed. Rúmil snorted again. 

"Forgive my brother's lack of eloquence, lovely maiden, it seems you have knocked him into a stupor," grinned the younger Elf-lord, "a great thing indeed, will you not show me how it is done?" 

"Brother?" She asked, looking from one to the other. 

"Indeed, he is most fortunate in his relations is he not?" Beamed Rúmil. 

Andúnil fixed her gaze anew on Haldir. "You have my pity, Sir." 

"And you mine for it seems you've met with him before," replied Haldir, who'd managed by now to digest the situation, "but you have not yet answered my question." Andúnil blinked, stuggling to remember being asked a question. 

"He asked if you could dance, well, demanded is more like," supplied Rúmil, smirking. He received a Haldir-glare for his troubles. 

"There are elves that cannot dance?" Frowned the maiden, for it seemed an odd question to her mind. 

"I think perhaps it was his boorish way of asking if you'd care to dance," spoke the younger Elf-lord once more. There it was again, more Haldir-glaring. Rúmil wondered why he even bothered translating for that ingrate. 

"Then, if only to escape from your company, I accept," she huffed at Rúmil, pulling her new dancing partner toward the center of the clearing. Haldir did not resist, he seemed suddenly amused and she suspected he approved of her disdain for Rúmil's company. 

"What was that all about?" Demanded Orophin, appearing out of know where. 

"Haldir is mingling," Rúmil sighed. 

"Is that not the maiden from a few days past?" Inquired the younger Elf, looking after the pair as they reached the dancing area, "the one you bopped on the head?" 

Rúmil sniffed delicately, "I maintain the bopping was your fault, but yes, it is she." 

"Still in love?" Teased Orophin. 

"I don't think so, but we shall have to see, she may yet throw something at me," he shrugged. 

***

Andúnil was pleased to find that though he smelled strongly of wine, Haldir was a very fine dancing partner. He made no attempt at engaging her in conversation, seemingly content just to lead her around the other couples in companionable silence. This was all very well in the Elf-maid's book, for it gave her enough attention to spare in seeking out the form of a certain red-clad male. And there he was, much the same as she had last seen him, still speaking with the dark-haired stranger. 

The direction of the dance changed as Andúnil was absorbed in her observations. But Andúnil herself, being thusly absorbed, did not change and found herself uncerimoniously face-planted in her partner's chest. "I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you," Haldir responded, guiding her smoothly back into step, "I've yet to see him dance this evening." 

"I can't imagine what you mean, my lord," she gasped, mortified. 

Haldir chuckled. "I'm sure." 

Andúnil looked up at the warden and fixed him with a glare, "now see here! You..." 

"He's looking this way you know," Haldir cut in snidely. 

The Elf-maid's head swung around to check, and sure enough, the golden-tressed visitor had turned his piercing gaze in their direction. Her face turned various shades of pink as she pulled her head back around rightways. 

"You aren't going to faint or something of the sort are you?" Haldir frowned in apparent disgust. 

Andúnil was mildly put out by his censure. "Jealous are we?" She sniffed. 

Haldir sighed whistfully, "actually yes, he'd never look at me like that." His sarcasm was not lost on her. 

Andúnil frowned. "Are you always this charming?" Her sarcasm _was_ lost on him. 

The warden seemed to ponder this for a moment. "No, but I've had a bit of wine," he admitted with a sigh. 


	5. The Eccentric Captain

  
  
**Chapter Five: The Eccentric Captain**

The music faded into silence, the last few strains of sound a quivering whisper on the evening breeze. Andúnil and Haldir parted from their dance and bowed their heads to one another as was customary. The warden offered her his arm and politely she accepted it, allowing herself to be lead from the dancing area. "Thank you for your company," were the only words he offered as he turned to part from her. 

Andúnil opened her mouth to reply with equal vagueness, when suddenly he pounced upon her without warning. The Captain's hands clasped her shoulders in a death-like grip and he used the hold to pivot himself around behind her. The startled maiden turned her head to demand an explanation for this strange behavior, and noticed he was hunched over, his eyes peering over the top of her head. "What is the meaning of this?" She cried, dumbfounded more than angry. 

"Quiet fool! You'll draw their attention!" He hissed in her ear as he slowly began to pull her backwards toward the edge of the glade. 

"Have you lost yourself to madness Marchwarden?" She croaked, trying to twist away from his grasp, "how much wine _did_ you consume?" 

Haldir did not seem to approve of her efforts to escape him. A hand left her shoulder and snaked around her middle, pinning one arm at her side and trapping her opposite wrist in his fist. "Only, three bottles," he mumbled. Andúnil dug her heels into the ground and leaned forward with all her might, straining against him. "Madame! You _will_ cease this struggling!" He growled. 

Andúnil rewarded him with a sound kick in the shins, earning a pained grunt for her trouble. "I shall do no such thing!" She argued, "unhand me at once you savage!" 

Haldir was forced to lift her feet from the ground and clamp his other hand over her mouth. "Haldir!" Exclaimed a horrified voice, "what in the name of all that is holy are you doing to her?" Another Elf came into view and Andúnil recognized him as Rúmil's counterpart from a few days past. 

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Snarled the Captain, "I'm hiding of course!" He followed this reply with an incoherent muttering about half-wits. 

"My brother, perhaps the lady does not wish to be hidden behind, certainly it does not look as though she approves!" Orophin tugged on the hand that held Andúnil's wrist, "and frankly, I think you will be hard pressed to convince her to dance with you again after this little scene!" He added, hoping the disapproval in his voice was getting through to his unruly sibling. Suddenly Andúnil found herself falling backwards with her captor, even as Orophin tried to pull her forward. The entire affair was becoming _most_ unbearable. 

Haldir hit the ground, sprawled out on his back, and a second set of hands worked to pry her from the Captain's grasp. With a defeated huff, the eldest of the brothers released her and she was propelled with great force into Orophin's chest. The warden and the maiden fell into an ungainly heap on the glade floor, she landing astride him in a most inappropriate fashion. Andúnil felt color rising to her cheeks in both humiliation and fury. 

Many pairs of eyes were focused on them, some in alarm, but most in amusement. It was not every day the elves of the Golden Wood were treated to such an unfortunate display, especially one involving the normally stoic Captain. Haldir sat up with a glower and swatted away the hands that were attempting to help him up, Rúmils hands, Andúnil noted as she glared at them both from her perch atop their youngest brother. 

"Now look what you've done!" Snapped Haldir, apparently oblivious to the stares of the crowd, "they've spotted me, all is lost!" 

A figure robed in radiance pushed through the onlookers and calmly surveyed the scene. "Rúmil, Orophin," she spoke quietly, "pick up your brother and take him home to bed, I think he has had quite enough celebration." She offered Andúnil one of her elegant, pale hands, "come my dear, you will have to get off of him no matter the fine seat he makes." 

Andúnil accepted the Lady's help with downcast eyes, nervously smoothing out her skirt once she found herself upright again. Orophin shot her a wink, having the nerve to look mildly disappointed even as he picked himself up and moved to assist Rúmil with their charge. "Orc!" She hissed under her breath, earning a surprised glance from the lady beside her. 

"He may not be the fairest of our kind, my dear, but he is certainly no orc," the words were spoken with great amusement and accompanied by a light smile. Andúnil cast her eyes downward again and tried to look contrite. 

"I beg your pardon, Lady of Light, I spoke quite out of turn." She apologized with severity. 

Galadriel's smile widened and she turned, casting her potent gaze over the assembly. Politely the elves averted their eyes and returned to their previous agendas. Andúnil felt the gentle weight of the Lady's hand settle on her shoulder. "I hope you will not judge Haldir too harshly for his behavior toward you, my child," she spoke kindly, "it would be a most unfortunate thing that you dislike him when he seems so fond of you." 

Andúnil inhaled sharply. Was the Lady mocking her? No, surely not, indulging in amusement at her expense perhaps, but not mocking. "I will reserve my judgement in the hopes that a day will come when I can observe the Marchwarden while he is in full possession of his wits." Andúnil replied carefully, "though I must admit, influenced by spirits or not, he has a very odd way of showing fondness." 

Galadriel's laughter was a bright, delightful sound that brought a grin to the younger Elf-maid's face. "You are quite correct, my dear Andúnil," replied the Lady, quietly leading her companion through the glade as she spoke, "but you are the only maiden he chose not to hide from, and he did single you out as a dancing partner, I believe he finds you at least mildy palatable." 

Andúnil remained skeptical. "I would not say he singled me out so much as stumbled across me," the tips of her ears pinkened slightly as a thought entered her mind, "or, as it were, I stumbled across him." Suddenly she stopped and looked up at the Lady in astonishment. "Did you just say he was hiding from maidens?" 

Galadriel's eyes were bright with mirth. "I did indeed." 

"An odd affliction for any Elf-lord," injected deep voice beside them. Andúnil's head snapped in the direction of the sound and felt her heart leap up into her throat in an instant. Of course, it was _him_, in all his red-clad, golden-haired glory. 

"My Lord Glorfindel," the Lady greeted him with a warm smile, inclining her head ever so slightly. 

"Lady Galadriel," he replied with an elegant bow. 

"May I present the maiden Andúnil," offered Galadriel, motioning gracefully to the younger Elf frozen at her side. 

The Golden Lord drove her to shortness of breath as he treated her to a bow of her own. "I have already had the pleasure of being stumbled across by this lady," he replied smoothly. 

Andúnil was certain he too was indulging in amusement at her expense. "Once again my Lord," she squeaked, "I apologize, is there naught I can do to make amends for my clumsiness?" Oh curses! Surely everyone in the glade could hear the pounding of her heart in her chest. 

The tall Elf clasped his hands behind his back and seemed to give the matter great consideration. Galadriel watched the exchange with a serene smile and Andúnil took comfort in her presence. At length he nodded. "As it were, I have not yet had the pleasure of a dance," he began, "having observed your fondness for that very activity earlier this evening, I believe I would not be denied the honor of your company?" 

Andúnil blinked, feeling a swoon coming on. This glorious-reborn-being-of-elven-legend wanted to dance with _her_? "Sweet Elbereth!" She gasped. Galadriel blinked. Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. A piteous wail pierced the silence even as Andúnil felt the force of a trembling body thrown up against hers, slender arms encircling her neck. The force of the assault was nearly enough to throw the Elf-maid off balance, and given her closeness to swooning it was a wonder that she didn't tumble after all. Even through the haze of her surprise, Andúnil recognized her attacker to be none other than her younger sister, Lirinwen. 

***

"Calm yourself dearest!" Crooned Andúnil, petting the younger maiden's hair, "tell me what has happened to cause you such distress." They were sitting together back in the security of their quarters even as the sound of music still flowed from the Glade of Gathering. 

Lirinwen covered her tear-stained face with both her hands and let out another heartwrenching sob. "It was-was, Tini...Tini...Tini..." 

"Tiniond?" Supplied the elder maid. Lirinwen began to wail anew at the sound of her beau's name. Andúnil sighed, "I'll accept that as a yes." With resignation she began to rub a hand over her sister's lower back, murmuring soothing words to the distraught Elf-maid. Andúnil knew she would get no reasonable explanation until the following day when Lirinwen would have cried enough to regain some degree of composure. 

It was with great disappointment that she helped the weeping Elf change out of her gown and tuck into bed. If only that blasted Tiniond had managed to delay whatever grievous sin he'd committed until _after_ she'd had a dance with Lord Glorfindel. As it stood, Andúnil doubted she'd ever be given _that_ opportunity again. Indeed, both the Golden Lord and the Lady of Lórien had born witness to the unfortunate scene with no small degree of chagrin. He'd excused himself hurriedly while Galadriel had been kind enough to help her escort her sister from the glade with as much discretion as possible. 

Suddenly there came a great knocking at the door. Well, pounding was more like it. Fearing some emergency, Andúnil rushed to answer. Flinging open the door, she came face to face with a most disturbing sight. "Sweet Elbereth! Haldir! What have you done to yourself?" Half dressed and greatly dishevled, he stood, or rather leaned, up against her doorframe a half empty bottle in one hand and a confused expression on his face. 

"Hm! This is not the kitchens!" He announced in an overly-loud voice. Andúnil had no response for that observation. "Say!" He chirped after a moment of silence, pointing at her with the bottle-hand, "don't I know you?" The smell of him denoted a brush with an alcoholic substance that was beyond wine. 

"Why, you're utterly soused!" She gasped in disdain. 

"I am not!" He countered with great resentment, "I'm drunk!" He began to tip forward, instinctively Andúnil reached out to steadied him. Like most males under the influence of far too much fermented drink, he felt the need to further deepen the contact, shifting his weight from the doorframe and leaning against her. His free hand clutched her arm for support even as he flopped his head onto her shoulder. Buckling under the sudden burden of him, for he was not a slight Elf, Andúnil struggled to stay standing. She was at a loss as to what she should do, certainly Lirinwen was in no position to help, being in the throes of her own emotional crisis at the present time. Andúnil considered calling for assistance, but her mouth was buried in the warden's shoulder and with the entire city in attendance at the festival, she doubted anyone would hear her muffled cries. 

"You smell pretty," came a childlike sigh next to her ear. Well, at least he seemed more disposed toward being coddled than amorous, for that she was greatful. A few more things began to form in the Elf maiden's head as she stood there undecided. First of all, how had he managed to get himself in such a state? A bit of eccentricity at the mercy of some wine was one thing, but she'd never heard of an Elf drinking himself stupid before. And how, of all the flets in this vast city, had he managed to find hers? She knew the wardens kept their homes in a part of the city far removed from where they now stood. In all fact, presuming he'd come of his own accord, she was surprised he hadn't dropped himself off the edge of a platform on the way. It was all _very_ unnatural! 

"Well, _you_ do not smell pretty, Haldir," she replied at last, "why don't you come inside and lay down? You must be very tired after having stumbl...er, walked so far to get here." Andúnil decided she'd try getting him to cooperate in moving, seemed like the easiest course next to just dropping him on the floor. Had he been any Elf lesser than the Lady's Captain, she just might have opted for the latter straight away. 

"Will you comb my hair?" He murmured, beginning to pet the arm he'd been holding on to. 

"Certainly I'll comb your hair, but you have to come inside and lay down first, alright?" She bargained, patting his naked back gingerly. 

"Alright," he replied agreeably, pushing himself away from her body to attempt entering the room of his own accord. Muttering under her breath, Andúnil did her best to guide the heavy, stumbling, shirtless Elf toward the padded bench in her parlor. She pushed him down onto it and coaxed the bottle from his hand, not wanting it spilled by accident. Andúnil set it out of sight and took her time fetching the comb from the vanity in her bedchamber, she hoped he'd be passed out by the time she returned so that she might be at liberty to go and fetch one of his brothers to collect him. No such luck. By the time she emerged with the comb, he was flipping carelessly through one of her storybooks that sat on the shelf beside the bench. "Will you read me a story?" He asked, wavering from side to side where he sat. Andúnil frowned and snatched the book from his grasp. 

"Lets just comb your hair for now, wont that be nice?" She replied, injecting a placating tone into her voice. Haldir grinned in the most inane manner she'd ever witnessed, nodding so vigorously it looked as though his head might come loose. 

"Where's Rúmil and Orophin?" He asked sweetly as she settled beside him and began to pick through his tangles. 

"Believe you me, I'd certainly like to know!" Andúnil replied with a huff. 


	6. The Morning After

  
  
**Chapter Six: The Morning After**

There was a dwarf in her parlor, Andúnil was certain of it, for the creature was snoring in a frightful manner and filling the air with its great stench. But strangely these things did not bother her as readily as one might think they would, for at the moment she was far more concerned with the fact that she appeared to be trapped under a heavy object. A _warm_, heavy object. Fearfully, Audunil looked down the length of her body. 

"Sweet Elbereth!" She shrieked, for there lay an Elf. 

Startled most abruptly out of his slumber, the Elf's head shot up even as his body toppled off the side of the bench. He landed with a great thud on his back, smacking his skull on the floor. Painfully, he groaned, grabbing the injured body part with both hands. 

Lirinwen came charging out of her bedchamber, her eyes bugging out at the sight before her. "Andúnil!" She cried, "there is an Elf in our parlor!" 

"Madame!" Hissed the Elf from where he lay, "please desist with these hysterics!" 

"Oh, so sorry," replied the younger sister, then lowering her voice she addressed her sibling once more, "Andúnil, there is an Elf in our parlor!" 

"Yes, thank you Lirinwen, but I am well aware!" Her voice was thick with irritation. 

Haldir sat up slowly, his face contorting in great discomfort, and took a tentative look at his surroundings. The Elf-maids watched him in silent apprehension, neither certain what to say. "Where is my shirt?" He asked lamely. 

"Oh, you arrived without one," Andúnil replied, as she began to assemble her memory of the previous evening. "You mentioned that you were looking for the kitchens." Haldir considered this information. 

"I have no memory of arriving in this place," he frowned, "and my head aches fiercely as though I had suffered a mightly blow," suddenly his expression turned accusatory. "Did you strike me on the head?" He demanded. 

***

Two wardens stood facing the Lord of Lórien, their eyes downcast, their shoulders slightly hunched. Celeborn was treating them to a look of utter disbelief, his brows knit and his mouth agape in a most un-elven fashion. "You did _what_?" He demanded. 

"We lost him, my lord, we lost Haldir," spoke Orophin. Rúmil nodded his assent at the validity of this information. 

Celeborn looked skeptical. "How does one _lose_ Haldir, exactly?" 

"Well," began the younger brother, pausing to glance at his sibling, "we're not precisely certain my Lord." 

"We left him sleeping in our quarters last evening, as the Lady requested, and, well, when we returned from the festival, he was missing and has not been seen!" Added Rúmil. 

Celeborn cleared his throat and stood from his desk, "I do not see how this is cause for concern, Haldir is well able to care for himself." The brothers quickly exchanged a fearful glance that did not go unnoticed by the elven Lord. "Oh dear, I am loath to ask, what have you done?" He sighed. 

"I only meant to help him fall asleep!" Protested the elder brother. 

"Rúmil," groaned the Lord, "tell me what you did to him." 

Rúmil bit his lip and looked pleadingly at his sibling, Orophin sighed and answered, "Rúmil administered a powerful sleeping draught, of sorts, you must understand my lord, we wished to quickly return to the festival, but the Lady had given us instructions to see him abed..." 

"Powerful sleeping draught of sorts?" Interrupted Celeborn, "what exactly does _of sorts_ entail?" 

Orophin clamped his mouth shut and glared at his elder brother, "that, my lord, you will have to ask Rúmil." 

The Lord of the Golden Wood cast the brunt of his most impatient stare on the Elf in question and awaited a response. Under his gaze, Rúmil flinched and fidgeted, looking as though he had swallowed something sour. "Well, it wasn't so much a sleeping draught as a bit of rare liquor," he replied at last. 

"Rare liquor?" Repeated the Elf-lord, "what sort of rare liquor, my young warden?" Celeborn could see from the look on their faces that he did not want to know. 

"It was orcish-whisky, my lord!" Cried Orophin suddenly. Rúmil shot his brother a peevish glare. Lord Celeborn's face turned to stone. 

"Where in Arda did you get such a vile thing?" Demanded their superior, his voice reduced to a fearsome whisper. 

Again the brothers exchanged apprehensive glances. "From the orcs we kill on the borders my lord," replied Orophin cautiously, "I know it isn't customary to take items from the bodies, but..." 

"Isn't customary?" Roared Celeborn, silencing the warden, "I am absolutely appalled with the both of you! Whatever possessed the you to do such a thing?" 

"It wasn't the both of us my lord!" Pleaded Orophin, pointing sideways at his brother, "it was only Rúmil, I've never touched a flask of orcish-whisky in my life!" 

Rúmil gasped in outrage. "You treacherous insect! You dared me to take it!" 

Orophin shrugged, "well, I didn't _make_ you take it!" 

"Enough!" Snapped the Lord, "aside from the fact that you took the whisky, what I would _really_ like to understand at this point is why you decided to give it to your brother! There are many better ways to help someone pass into a state of rest!" Rúmil pouted. Orophin cringed. Celeborn began to tap his foot. "Well?" 

At last the elder sibling huffed, "we just wanted to have a bit of fun with him, thats all," he looked up at his Lord with a pleading quiver to his bottom lip, "it was only meant to be a harmless prank, really." 

"Tell me exactly what happened," growled Celeborn, seating himself back down at his desk. 

**_...the previous evening..._**

"I am _not_ tired!" Stormed Haldir, planting his fists firmly on his hips and glaring at his siblings. 

"But brother!" Protested Orophin, "the Lady asked us to see you to bed, so to bed you must go!" 

Rúmil nodded his support. "Indeed, you've consumed too much wine this evening and aren't fit to be in public, already you've much humiliated yourself." 

"I will decide when I am and am not humiliated if you _don't_ mind!" Argued the eldest. The younger wardens exchanged weary glances, this simply would not do. 

"I have a splendid idea!" Piped up Rúmil quite suddenly, "perhaps if I gave you something to clear your head you could return with us?" 

"My head _is_ clear!" Insisted the Captain. 

"Haldir, you are being stubborn!" Chided Orophin. 

"No I am _not_!" He shot back, stubbornly. 

"Are you suggesting the Lady was wrong?" Tried Rúmil. 

This seemed to do it, Haldir opened his mouth, paused, then shut it. He pondered for a moment, then at length replied. "The Lady is never _wrong_, though, perhaps in this case she was slightly mistaken." 

"Haldir, that is the same thing!" Argued Orophin. 

"No, it is _not_!" Insisted the warden. 

"Here, take a sip of this," offered Rúmil, ignorning his elder brother's venemous glare, "then at least we can say with all honesty that we gave you a remedy for your non-existent condidtion." As he spoke, Rúmil was digging through the cabinet where he stored his gear, emerging with a small brown flask which he offered to Haldir. 

"You are mocking me," snapped Haldir, "do not think I cannot tell!" 

"Do you want to come or not?" Returned the younger Elf, "because if you don't co-operate we'll tie you up and leave you to rot until we return!" 

Haldir snorted in derision, "you couldn't tie me up if your miserable lives depended on it," but he snatched the flask anyhow, earning a grin from his sibling. Cautiously he removed the cap and sniffed the contents, then reeled back as if haven been smote in the jaw. "What is this poison?" He demanded. 

Rúmil shrugged nonchalantly, "something I got from Elladan when last the twins visited, I understand it's of Lord Elrond's creation," he lied. 

Orophin maintained his silence. He was skeptical, there's no way Haldir would fall for this. After all the millenia that had passed the elder warden would not be fool enough to accept an unidentifiable drink from Rúmil. Thus was he startled into gaping shock when the Captain took a tentative swig from the flask. 'Oh my,' thought Orophin to himself, 'he has most certainly had too much wine if he is agreeing to this!' 

Haldir gagged and sputtered, shaking his head violently as if to shed the taste of the horrid drink. He dropped the flask, which was quickly apprehended by Rúmil and began to retch in a most unattractive fashion. The younger brothers witnessed this disturbing display with a degree of concerned disapproval. 

"You've poisoned him!" Hissed Orophin. 

Rúmil blanched and looked at the offensive object in his hand. "My word, I certainly hope not!" Presently their elder brother's eyes rolled back into his head and he toppled over, unconcious. "I've poisoned him!" Cried Rúmil. 

**_...back to the following morning..._**

"But, thank goodness, we were mistaken," continued the warden, "as when we checked him we found that he was merely unconcious, so we carried him to his cot, made him comfortable, and left." 

"And when we returned some hours later he had vanished!" Added Orophin, "you don't suppose someone stole him do you?" He asked, looking in horror to his sibling. 

Rúmil snorted, "if that's the case, I pity the poor Elf-napper, they're in for quite the adventure when he wakes up." 

Celeborn sighed and crossed his arms. "I assume it was your intent to make him ill for your own amusement?" 

"Not so much 'ill' as 'slightly nauseated'," corrected Rúmil, "but I assure you it was only for his own good!" 

"I fail to see how nausea serves Haldir's own good," snapped the Lord, "and I can well see that you are both unaware of how orcish-whisky affects the elven body, or you would certainly not have left him alone!" The brothers paled at this, not daring to ask why. 


	7. The Effects of Orcish Whisky

  
  
**Chapter Seven: The Effects of Orcish-Whisky**

"What is the matter with him sister?" Whispered Lirinwen. Haldir had apparently fallen unconcious, while still sitting on their parlor floor at that, and the younger Elf-maid was observing this phenomenon with great horror. 

Andúnil crouched down beside him, crinkling her nose at the offensive smell that emanated from his person, and carefully checked his pulse. "Well, he is not dead," she concluded, standing quickly and backing away from their ungracefully sprawled guest. "I am going to see if I can't find someone to come and retrieve him." 

Lirinwen managed to look even more deeply horrified than before. "You are going to leave me here alone with him?" She croaked. 

"Of course," replied the elder maiden curtly as she draped a mantle over her shoulders, "just keep an eye on his breathing, we can't have the Lady's Captain dying on our parlor floor you know." 

Lirinwen's brows knit together and she craned her neck to get a better view of the warden's face. "The Lady's Captain you say?" She asked with curiosity. 

"Quite right," confirmed Andúnil, "I shall return shortly," she added, stepping out the door. 

"Hm! So it is!" Chirped the younger sister to herself, "though I must say, he looks and smells more like one of those Man creatures." 

"Well, you look like a Dwarf woman, all red nosed and puffy, so there!" Came the gravelly response from the floor. 

Lirinwen returned to her previous state of great horror, though this time with nuances of indignation. "I beg your pardon!" She huffed, "aren't you supposed to be unconcious?" 

"I _was_ unconcious," he sighed impatiently, "but now I am not." 

"So I see!" She snapped, "not unconcious and full of acerbity." 

Haldir's hand came up to rub his temple, though he made no other moves to adjust his position. "Well, Madame, you did just call me a 'Man', I felt it only fair to return the compliment." 

Lirinwen snorted scornfully. "Yes, but only because I thought you were unconcious!" 

"Oh, well, in that case," was that sarcasm she detected? "I retract my previous comparison between you and a Dwarf woman." Yes, there was no denying the derision in his tone. 

"Might I remind you that you are a guest in my home?" She snarled at him, "it would behoove you to act with greater decorum towards me!" 

Haldir opened his eyes slowly, and apparently with great effort. "Perhaps if you offered me a chair I might be more inclined towards decorum," he sighed, "or do you suffer all your guests to lay on the floor?" 

"Oh!" Gasped the Elf-maid, "dear me, yes, lets get you onto the bench!" Let it not be said that even in a state of high offense, Elven ladies lack hospitality. 

Haldir groaned as Lirinwen began to hoist him up by the armpits. "Gently, Madame, both my mind and body ache in ways I cannot describe." 

"My apologies Marchwarden," she replied, adjusting her grip to facilitate as little jarring as possible, "I would have you know I have been in a state of great distress for the better part of last evening." 

The Elf managed, with Lirinwen's assistance, to ease himself onto the bench seat, even as he cast her a troubled look. "What's that?" 

"Well that's why I'm red and puffy you know," she explained patiently, as though to a child, "because of my distress." 

Haldir blinked, "oh, I see." 

Lirinwen settled herself next to him, "yes indeed, and you might have been as well had such a thing happened to you as it did to me!" The Captain said nothing, only continued to study the maiden at his side with mild alarm. Dear Eru, was she going to _share_ with him? A twinge of panic fluttered in his already queasy stomach. 

Lirinwen sighed wistfully, folding her hands on her lap. "But I suppose that's what I get for being such a trusting, vulnerable soul!" Another sigh. "Did he not think I saw him talking so secretively to that dark-haired thing from Imladris? And he had the nerve to deny it!" Oh yes indeedy, it appeared she was in the mood for sharing. 

Haldir tried to think quickly, though it pained him. "Might I have a cushion Madame? My head aches fearfully," he groaned, hoping to either distract her from her topic of though or hint that he was in too much pain to make a good listener at the moment. 

"Oh! Yes of course, you poor thing!" She jumped to her feet to fetch the desired cushion, "whatever is the matter with you anyhow? I've not ever seen anyone in such a state before!" 

Haldir breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm afraid I have no idea what sort of evil has befallen me," he replied quietly, "though I suspect it has something to do with my troublesome brothers." 

Lirinwen returned with both a cushion and a goblet of water. "Oh, you have brothers?" She asked politely, then frowned, "Tiniond does not have any brothers, perhaps if he _did_ they might have taught him how to better treat a maiden!" 

Haldir accepted her offerings gratefully, raising an eyebrow in curiosity even as she helped him tuck the pillow behind his head. "Tiniond?" The name was familiar to him for some reason. 

The Elf-maid sighed again and plopped herself back down beside him. "Yes, Tiniond, that wretch who tore my heart to pieces and scattered the shards of my soul all across the Glade of Gathering!" Her bottom lip began to tremble and another wave of panic hit Haldir's stomach. Sharing was one thing, crying was _quite_ another! 

"Oh, well, I'm sure he didn't mean to..." Haldir paused and scowled as he tried to recall her exact words, "...scatter the shards of your soul, perhaps there has been a misunderstanding?" It was the best attempt at consolation he could make under the present circumstances. 

Lirinwen sniffled. "I think not! I know what I saw!" Her voice began to quiver slightly, "and what's more is he had the nerve to _lie_ to me about it! Can you imagine?" Her eyes began to gloss over. 

"No, no I cannot," he whimpered, his alarm had now escalated from mild to moderate. 

"Are you defending him?" She demanded, suddenly angry. Haldir's eyes widened in surprise and apprehension. 

In vain he searched the meaning of his last reply for any evidence that would suggest he'd been defending the notorious Tiniond. "Never!" He squeaked in desperation. 

Abruptly her mood swung back from anger to sorrow. "And what's more," apparently Haldir's transgression was already forgotten, "I was expecting that we were to become bethrothed last evening!" The last word of this revelation was stretched out into a high pitched, nasal whine and succeeded by a myriad of hitching sobs. 

"Oh, my, well, that _is_ unfortunate!" He gasped, trying to lean his body as far into the opposite corner of the bench as he could even as the distressed Lirinwen began to tilt toward him. But, alas, it was quite a short bench, and soon Haldir found he had half the weeping form of a young Elf-maid clutched to the front of his bare chest. Apparently, under the influence of her aforementioned distress, she'd forgotten he smelled unpleasant, or at least it certainly didn't seem to trouble her any longer. 

The throbbing in his head increased and all the raw muscles in his body tensed. The Captain grimaced in distress and pain. Lirinwen's face was planted in his collarbone, leaking profusely all over his unprotected skin. Haldir was at a complete loss. He glanced at the goblet of water in his hand. No, no, that had the potential to worsen his situation. What was there to do? Gingerly he patted her upper back in what he hoped was a comforting manner and prayed for deliverance. 

***

Tentatively Andúnil acended towards the Lord and Lady's court. Though she did know where to find the warden homes, she wasn't certain which one belonged to Haldir and his brothers. Consequently, she was in no mood to run about knocking on doors in order to ascertain the location of the brothers' home, so instead she opted to go directly to see the Lady. Surely Galadriel would send someone immediately to fetch her wayward Captain, and even if Andúnil was not permitted to see the Lady, she was certain there would be someone in the court that would help. 

This was one of the most beautiful places in Caras Galadhon and Andúnil seldom had reason to venture here. Everything was polished and elegant, glowing with a radiant inner light. The lingering sound of music haunted the air, as if the trees were singing softly to one another, and the Elf-maid could not help but pause and take a moment to appreciate it. Her thoughts drifted away from the task at hand as she closed her eyes and felt the beauty of the city's heart seep into her soul. Breathing a contented sigh, Andúnil felt a smile come to her face. 

"Good morning Andúnil of Lórien," came a deep voice to her close right. The maiden gasped, yanked from her daydream abruptly by the sound, but it was not the Noldo she was expecting. Instead of golden hair, the owner of the voice had dark tresses, also his skin was fairer and his countenance more sombre than regal. 

"Good morning...Sir," she replied hesitantly, she recognized him as the strange Elf-lord that Glorfindel was speaking to at the festival the evening before. 

"You were expecting Lord Glorfindel, perhaps?" He surmised dryly, "I have been told we sound much alike, I am called Erestor." 

Andúnil's eyes brightened at the familiarity of the name. "Ah, Lord Erestor, yes of course, you are a counsellor to Lord Elrond!" 

Erestor clasped his hands behind his back, Andúnil wondered fleetingly if this was a common trait in all of the Imladris males. "The chief of his counsellors, yes," he replied with no hint of feeling, "and companion to Lord Glorfindel for the moment, whom I understand you've already met." 

The maiden felt her ears burn lightly at recollection of how she had 'met' the Elf-lord in question. "Indeed," she replied sheepishly, "I imagine that is where you learned my name?" 

"No, that is not where I learned your name," he replied ambiguously, "were you looking to speak with someone in particular then, Madame?" 

'Well, this one certainly doesn't waste time mincing words does he?' Andúnil thought to herself, distinctly aware that he seemed to think she was seeking out the Golden Lord. "Yes, Counsellor," she replied at length, "as a matter of fact I was looking to speak with someone in particular." Her hopes of irritating him with his own brand of vague answer seemed doomed to disappointment. 

"Perhaps I might be of some assistance," he replied without missing a beat or batting an eye. Andúnil felt a small twinge of annoyance. 

"Indeed? I am seeking to speak with the Lord, Lady or either of the Marchwardens that are brother to Captain Haldir." If Erestor was surprised by this list, he did not show it. 

"Is this in regards to Haldir's whereabouts?" Demanded the dark-haired Elf, his tone taking on a decidedly more serious timbre. 

Andúnil blinked, "well, yes," she admitted, momentarily thrown off by the perceptive question. 

"Follow me," he barked, setting off at a brisk pace. Andúnil felt another twinge of annoyance as she sprinted after him, this haughty creature had some nerve ordering her about! 

***

"...even the most miniscule amount of this substance ingested into the elven system will cause a nearly instantaneous state of unconciousness that can last up to five hours," read Celeborn from a crisp piece of parchment. Rúmil and Orophin listened glumly as their Lord continued, "it is believed that the substance spreads, thereafter, through the bloodstream, like a poison, and causes a variety of side effects that include extremely unpleasant body odor, mild muscle aches, sensitivity to light, sensitivity to sound, temporary memory loss and headaches that are potent to the degree of being immobilizing," he paused there and shot them both a seething glare. 

Rúmil was doing his best not to giggle at the list of symptoms that were most likely ailing his poor brother. Orophin was amused also, but doing a much better job of controlling himself. "Please continue, my lord," he urged, jabbing his mirthful sibling in the ribs with unnecessary force. 

Celeborn's eyes returned to the page with a frown. "The victim may also suffer from sporadic bouts of unconciousness over the course of the week following the ingestion, and will be unnaturally susceptible to the ill effects of any and all other forms of fermented beverages during that time period," the Elf-lord paused again as if undecided whether or not to continue, at length he did, "these symptoms are believed to be caused by an allergic reaction to a sub-ingrediant in the whisky; orc urine..." 

Rúmil was unable to contain himself at that and burst out laughing. Orophin lowered his head and bit his lip, though the slight bouncing of his shoulders betrayed his amusement. Celeborn slapped down the parchment in disgust and glared at them both, he was robbed of the chance of reprimanding them by a sudden knock on the door. Swiftly he got up and brushed past the two merrymakers to answer it, and found the solemn grey eyes of Erestor awaiting him on the other side. 

"I am in the middle of an audience Counsellor, can I seek you out a later time this morning?" He asked quickly, hoping the Rivendell Elf couldn't hear Rúmil and Orophin's muffled larking. 

"There is a maiden here who claims to have information pertaining to your Captain's mysterious disappearance, my lord," replied Erestor, giving no indication that he heard anything amiss. Celeborn tilted his head with interest and exited the office, shutting the door firmly behind him. 

Noticing a rather piqued looking Elf-maid standing behind his guest, he gestured toward a comfortable bench that sat near. "Wont you both have a seat?" 

"No thank you, my lord," replied Erestor quickly, "I have other duties to attend to." 

"Then I thank you for bringing the maiden to me personally," was Celeborn's courteous reply. Erestor responded with a brief bow, and left, stepping around Andúnil as though she were a piece of furniture. The maiden made no effort to hide her vexation as she watched the dark-haired counsellor walk away, Celeborn had to suppress the smile that leapt to his face. Erestor's abrupt social skills were an endless source of amusement to the Lord of Lothlórien. 

"Do not let him trouble you, my dear, it's not personal, Erestor treats everyone with the same lack of fervor." 

Andúnil gave Celeborn a startled look, she was quite puzzled by the inappropriately candid comment coming from the Elf beside her. "Then I shall surely not let him trouble me, my lord." Celeborn chuckled and sat on the bench, gesturing that she join him, which she did quite quickly. 

"Now, what is this about Haldir?" He asked once she'd settled herself. 

***

The door opened and Celeborn re-entered the room, behind him came a maiden that was by now quite familiar to the Lórien brothers. 

"So wonderful to see you again my lady!" Chuckled Rúmil, only barely recovered from his laughter. Celeborn shot him a withering look and Andúnil rolled her eyes and ignored his overly-friendly greeting. 

"Andúnil, I'm sure you're already acquainted with Rúmil and Orophin," spoke Celeborn, nodding toward each brother as he said their name. 

"Moreso than I'd like to be, if I may say so, my lord," was her snide reply. 

Celeborn grinned, "you may indeed," he sat back down at his desk and motioned her to a chair, "now please, if you will, once more so that they might hear what has become of their brother." 

This earned the Elf-maid two curious glances. "Well, it was simply awful," she began, frowning overmuch and enjoying the look of worry that passed over their features, "as it is I'm surprised he escaped the whole affair without a broken neck!" Here she paused again as if so overcome by the memory that she needed a moment to collect her thoughts. 

Celeborn nodded understandingly. "Take your time, my dear, I know this isn't easy for you." Rúmil and Orophin both turned noticeably paler, so focused were they on the maiden that they didn't see the smirk on their Lord's face. 


	8. To Forgive & Be Forgetful

  
  
**Author's Notes**  
Thanks for all the kind and helpful reviews :)  
I know I said before that my chapters might slow down to one a week due to an impending move, and rightly they should!  
But you see, sometimes I'm a _terrible_ procrastinator, so here's another chapter that I wrote instead of boxing up kitchen ware!  
It should be noted that I was tempted to up the rating to "PG-13" for this chapter, but decided against it in the end since the questionable stuff is only implied and very briefly mentioned.  
Let me know if you think it qualifies a rating upgrade.  
Cheers! ~ Liomi ~ 

(MyGirlCrais; 'unhinged'? I love that word. Made me giggle. Not sure why.) 

* * *

**Chapter Eight: To Forgive & Be Forgetful**

"Like the silvery filaments of moonlight that shine down upon your silvery hair..._blast!_ I already said silvery!" Tiniond cleared his throat and tried again, "like the silvery filaments of moonlight that shine down upon your..." he paused and thought for a moment, "...radiant! Yes! _Radiant_ hair!" The young warden congratulated himself on this clever choice of words as he paced back and forth below Lirinwen's quarters. 

He'd come that morning hoping to smooth things over between them. It had really all been just an unfortunate misunderstanding, and Tiniond hoped that his beloved had had sufficient time to recover from her upset. He had it with him still, the delicate engraved ring commissioned from the silver-smith in Imladris, tucked away in his pocket. The smith's own wife had been kind enough to deliver it to him personally, as she'd come to visit her sister and enjoy the autumn festivities. 

Tiniond felt simply horrid for having to lie to his beloved about talking to the smith's wife. He'd sweated and fussed over it all evening and hardly got an ounce of rest. She had every right to be angry with him, he decided at last, for a falsehood was a falsehood no matter its cause. He ought to have just given her the ring right from the start and saved them both a lot of heartache. These were the notions that plagued the warden's thoughtful silence as he worked up the nerve to knock on Lirinwen's door. 

At last he stopped and drew in a great breath, turning to eye the humble abode with determination. Tiniond lifted his chin and strode forward, pulling the little piece of jewelry from his pocket as he went. He took the stairs two at a time and knocked soundly on the wooden surface. Apprehension siezed his heart as he stood holding his breath and waiting. At long last the door was pulled open. 

"Tiniond?" Asked a puffy-faced, red-eyed Lirinwen, her expression betraying shock. 

The warden stood gaping at her open-mouthed for a moment, she truly looked a frightful mess! "Oh my _dear, dear_ Lirinwen!" He gasped after a moment, "you look positively _torn!_ This is _all_ my fault!" 

"Wh-what are you doing here?" She sniffled. 

"Well I've come to apologize of course!" He gushed, grasping one of her trembling hands, "apologize and _beg_ your forgiveness! Might I be allowed in? Even just for a few minutes to have the opportunity to redeem myself?" 

"In? Well, certainly, I suppose that..." her eyes grew suddenly wide with realization, "_no!_ No you may not come in! I-I...I'd rather take a walk! Yes! _A walk!_" She replied, a hint of desperation in her tone, "I've been inside all morning, I could _really_ use the sunlight!" 

"Oh, well, of course, _naturally!_" He agreed, "anything you desire my beloved, but first, before another word is spoken, I have something to give you..." Tiniond pushed his palm forward where the ring lay cradled even as Lirinwen tried to usher him backwards so she could shut the door. His open hand collided with her advancing body and the little ring tipped off and rolled itself into Lirinwen's parlor. 

"What was..." she began, as Tiniond jumped after the trinket. 

"I'll get it!" He announced fervantly scrambling past her to chase the wayward band as fled across the room. But it did not go far! The warden managed to catch up to it when it was knocked onto it's side by a rather smelly bare foot. "Aha!" Exclaimed the ring-chaser, holding up his quarry in triumph. Then something dawned on him and slowly his gaze crept up past the foot to the limp form of a body slumped on the bench above him. 

"It's not what it looks like!" Cried Lirinwen in a panic as she marked the horror on Tiniond's face. 

"You-you-you..." the distressed warden looked from his beloved to the unconcious heap of Elf-flesh and back again several times, various shades of sorrow flickering over his features. "You and _Haldir?_" He whispered at last, his eyes welling with tears. 

"No!" She insisted, "this is Andúnil's doing, not mine!" 

Relief washed over Tiniond's expression and he stood slowly. "Andúnil! Of course!" He exclaimed, then he frowned, "where is she then?" 

"Oh! She left him here to wait while she fetches his brothers," Lirinwen supplied quickly. 

"His _brothers?_" Tiniond had the decency to look scandalized over the idea that was forming in his head. Lirinwen quickly ascertained what her words were leading him to believe and held up her hands in protest. 

"Oh no! Not like that!" She backpeddled quickly, "she's gone to get them so they can take him home, as he's in no state to walk on his own!" That didn't seem to help any, Tiniond blinked and frowned. Lirinwen sighed in frusteration. 

***

Andúnil allowed herself a satisfied smile as she lead Rúmil and Orophin towards her home. The Elf-maid had been able to string them along for nearly twenty minutes before Rúmil began to look as though he might wet himself. After that point she confessed the reality of Haldir's plight and filled them in on the pertinent details. 

Neither she nor Lord Celeborn had been able to resist having a good laugh at the expense of the brothers, and she sensed they were still a bit sore about it. Of course the nice thing about having Rúmil sore with you was that you were spared having to listen to his 'witty' remarks. They walked through the city in blessed silence until at last they arrived at the sisters' home. 

"Here we are!" She announced brightly, ascending the steps and letting herself in. Wordlessly the pair followed, frowning at her cheer. Suddenly she wasnt feeling so cheery either. The parlor was empty. 

"Is he in one of the bedrooms?" Asked Rúmil with a smirk. 

Andúnil shot him a disapproving look. "If he is, I had nothing to do with it," she snapped, moving toward her bedchamber to check. 

Rúmil and Orophin exchanged amused glances, pleased to see her feathers a bit ruffled. Suddenly there came an obviously feminine giggle from behind the other door in the room and both brothers broke into a catty grin. Andúnil had heard it as well, emerging from her empty chamber with a frown on her face. 

"Sounds like someone is having a nice time in there," observed Orophin, gesturing toward Lirinwen's room. Andúnil paled and cautiously approached. 

Hesitating only briefly, the elder sister tapped on the door, "Liri?" She asked tentatively. There was a dull thud, a gasp and some muffled whispering. At length the handle turned and the door was opened a crack. 

Lirinwen poked her head out, noting with alarm that they had company. "Oh, hello Andú! Can I be of assistance with something?" 

"Actually yes!" Came Rúmil's chipper voice before Andúnil could reply, "we're looking for our brother, have you seen him?" 

"He's tall, obnoxious, blonde, and apparently doesn't smell very nice at the moment," continued Orophin. 

"And we understand he's also not currently in possession of a full set of clothing," added Rúmil. 

Andúnil narrowed her eyes and ignored them. "You were supposed to be watching him dearest, do you know where he's gone?" 

Lirinwen's eyes went as large as saucers. "He's-he's not in the parlor?" She sqeaked. 

Orophin grabbed his brother's arm. "Dear Eru, does this mean we've lost him again?" 

***

Haldir awoke for what he was certain was the hundredth time that day. Something smelled awful. After a few moments, he remembered it was him. Blinking, he tried to sit up, but he was already sat up, propped against the back of a little padded bench in someone's parlor. The ache in his head had been reduced to a dull pressure but his memory still evaded him like a slippery fish. 

Somewhere close by a maiden squealed in delight, followed by a masculine sounding moan. Haldir bolted upright, barely catching himself from tumbling onto the floor as he gripped the edge of the bench. Now half on half off the piece of furniture he studied his surroundings in alarm. It seemed he was alone. Then he heard it again. The disturbing noises seemed to be emanating from one of the three doors in the parlor. And why in Arda were his legs malfunctioning? 

Another sound reached his keen ears then, the kind of sound no one should ever have to accidentally overhear. Haldir scowled in shook his head in digust, giving the offensive door a look of disapproval. He was _not_ going to sit..er, hang...yes, hang here and listen to that! 

Carefully the warden released his hold on the bench and lowered himself as gently as possible to the floor. He covered his ears, for the noises had grown louder and more insistant, and scooted himself toward what seemed to be the main entrance of the little home. 

***

Andúnil was furious and embarrassed. What had her sister been thinking? Had she not _specifically_ left directions that Haldir was to be watched? What would Lord Celeborn say? Sweet Elbereth! Andúnil hoped he wouldn't be too angry with her. 

"It's alright, my lady, we'll find him," Orophin reassured her as they descended the steps from her house. 

"Too right, he can't have gone far, probably just passed out in the bushes nearby," quipped Rúmil. 

Andúnil felt her nerves begin to prickle, she needed a break from these two and their _confounded_ optimism! "Let us split up, we stand thrice the chance of spotting him on our own." 

The brother's nodded their approval at this suggestion and they each went their separate way to comb the area for the missing Captain. 

The maiden carefully inspected the platforms a level down from hers, her greatest concern was that he might have fallen off of one of the flets. She didn't like to think about it as she gingerly poked about in the shrubbery, earning a few discreetly curious glances from the passers by. It seemed like at least an hour had passed, though in reality it was probably only half that amount of time, and still there was no sign of Haldir. 

Andúnil suddenly wondered if one of his brothers had already found him and had decided not to inform her about it. Something of that deplorable nature was certainly _not_ beyond them and the more she thought about it, the more convinced she grew that that is _exactly_ what had happened. Red-faced from her seething fury, the Elf-maiden stomped back up to her quarters. She turned the last corner leading to her steps and smacked forcefully into someone. 

By now she knew better than to think she might have run into 'something'. Reeling back, it occurred to her that there was no possible way to avoid a tumble this time, the impact had thrown her much too far off balance. Amazingly though, an arm reached out to steady her, she looked up. It had been Rúmil's arm and he was giving her an especially cheeky grin. 

"Sometimes I wonder that you have any Elven blood at all, my clumsy friend," he teased. Still recovering from her almost-tumble, Andúnil wrenched her arm from his grasp. Perhaps it was the humiliation, perhaps it was the ire, most likely it was an unpleasant combination of the two. But for whatever reason, the maiden suddenly felt herself wind up and deliver a potentially rib-cracking blow to the warden's mid-section. 

Pain shot up her arm, but as she observed him double over it was overshone by great satisfaction. Andúnil struggled to recall anything feeling quite so wonderful even as he gasped for air. A pang of regret ruined her lovely moment though, when her anger subsided and she began to grasp what she had just done. 

"Sweet Elbereth!" She cried all of a sudden, "Rúmil! Are you alright?" Andúnil bent down and urged him to straighten, forcing up his chin with her fingers. 

Rúmil's eyes widened as he met her gaze, and all Andúnil could do was gasp when he suddenly pressed his mouth agaist hers with apparent ardor. The Elf-maid blinked, frozen on the spot in confusion. For a moment she allowed the kissing to continue. Growing less and less befuddled by the moment, she was forced to admit a part of her was sort of enjoying it. His lips were warm, and soft, and he smelled a hundred times better than his older brother. Also he was pretty good at it. She wondered if that was due to all the talking...then she remembered she didn't like Rúmil. 

"Orc!" She snarled, pushing him away forcefully and raising her hand to strike him across the face. 

Orophin, appearing out of no where (how does he do that?), deftly captured her wrist and stepped between them. "Oh no! Don't do that! You'll only make it worse!" He warned her. 

Rúmil gave his brother a withering glare and tried to push the younger, meddling Elf out of the way. 

Someone on the left cleared their throat in an obvious fashion, and the trio turned their startled gazes toward the sound. Erestor stood looking unimpressed, his hands clasped behind his back. 

"Sorry to interrupt," he announced, not sounding sorry at all, "but I believe, gentlemen, I've found something that belongs to you." He stepped to the side and two wardens came into view, each supporting one shoulder of a very bewildered looking Haldir. "He was found in one of the gardens," added the Imladris Counsellor. 

"Brother!" Exclaimed Orophin, releasing his grip on the Elf-maid as he jogged over toward his recovered sibling. 

Rúmil tossed a look in Haldir's direction, noting that the older Elf looked unharmed, then turned his attention back to Andúnil. He smiled at her and stepped forward. Heeding Orophin's strange warning, the maiden refrained from slapping the amorous warden, instead she stepped back and pointed a finger at him. 

"No!" She declared in an authoritative tone. Rúmil halted, a splendid pout springing to his face. 


	9. The Day That Wouldn't End

  
  
**Author's Notes**  
Thanks for all the great feedback :)  
I am going to try and see about lengthening my future chapters, and perhaps even revisiting my old chapters and adding scenes to get them up over 2000 words.  
Chapter three in particular was, I believe, not even over 1000 words. **Egads!** 

I must say I'm relieved to find that my "masochistic" Rúmil is going over well with everyone, I was concerned I might have been burned at the proverbial fan fiction stake for that one. **naughty grin** 

And since it's been brought up a couple of times; yes indeedy! You have not seen the last of the beautiful Glorfindel...or Erestor for that matter. **insert inappropriate catcalling here** 

Alright, enough of me, here's nine...  
~ Liomi ~ 

* * *

**Chapter Nine: The Day That Wouldn't End**

The house seemed quite empty, Andúnil noted with pleasure. Stillness and tranquility permeated the rooms within. The maiden wondered only briefly where her sister had gotten off to, but her attention quickly shifted to darker thoughts as she spied her little reading bench all askew. 

'Blasted males and their confounded intrusiveness!' She thought, eyes narrowing as she snatched up a flattened cushion from where it had fallen to the floor. A faint odor wafted past her nose, and she eyed the object warily, then gave it a tentative sniff. Instantly, she recoiled. "Oh for the love of all that is holy! Must they leave their mark everywhere they go?" She demanded aloud, holding the poor little cushion at arms length. 

Disgusted beyond reason, Andúnil banished the pillow to her washing basket, and pulled the padding off the bench to share the same fate. The goblet which still sat full of water also received a scalding reprimand, for it was sitting atop one of her storybooks making a ring. She'd be damned before she let one drunken warden and his stupid brothers disrupt her life! 

Remembering the siblings gave further fuel to her ire. The _nerve_ of that accursed Rúmil! Who did he think he was attacking her in such a fashion? Had she not made her contempt for him _perfectly_ clear? Andúnil stomped one foot, sputtering with vexation. "The _nerve_ I say!" 

***

The compress across his forehead felt unnaturally heavy and cool, but Haldir didn't mind. The air in the infirmary smelled strongly of herbs and other flora. It was the first time that day he could recall not feeling the strange pressure behind his eyes. With the passing of the headache there also came a clarity of mind, and as he lay recovering he sifted through the memories that were beginning to surface. 

Still working over a few details, there was one thing though, he had decided for certain. Haldir was going to _kill_ his brothers. He knew not when, he knew not how, but in some form or another they were going to pay _dearly_ for this pain and humiliation. At the moment, the Captain could think of nothing quite vile enough to inflict upon them, but he felt confident it would come to him sooner or later. 

A presence stirred in the room and Haldir opened his eyes. The pale robes and serene visage of Laurelindórenan's Lord greeted his view and the Captain smiled. Celeborn returned the smile and procured himself a seat next to the warden's cot. 

"You look much improved my friend," he observed. 

Haldir nodded slightly. "And I feel much improved, my lord, in body at least," he sighed, "I fear my dignity may have suffered irreparable damage, however." 

Celeborn chuckled. "I would give you words of consolation on that matter Marchwarden, but I believe there is naught to be offered," he tilted his head candidly, "though you have my deepest sympathies in regards to your unfortunate relations." 

Haldir could not hide the sneer that came to his lips. "I am going to _kill_ them." 

Another chuckle escaped the Galadhrim's Lord. "I have every confidence that you will! However," he paused and gave the Captain a significant look, "I believe there is one other individual who has suffered because of this mischief, and she too deserves restitution." 

The warden nodded. "Aye, not excluding from myself, for I believe I am at least partially at fault for her miseries." 

Celeborn raised a practiced eyebrow. "Perhaps, perhaps not," he replied, "though if you were, I believe you have already been punished far and beyond what would have been owing." 

Haldir nodded and grinned wryly. "I agree." 

"What do you think to letting the maiden choose their punishment?" Asked Celeborn curiously. 

Haldir considered this for a moment. "Well, I suppose it is fitting, but do you not think she will be too lenient with them?" 

Celeborn grinned. "Nay Captain, I do not doubt for one minute that the maiden Andúnil will be appropriately harsh." 

"Andúnil? That is her name?" Inquired the warden, "I had not remarked it until now, it is rather pleasant sounding." 

Celeborn knit his brows together and curled up the edges of his mouth. "Is it?" There was something of amusement in his tone. 

Haldir chanced to roll his eyes at the Lord. "I did not mean it to sound suggestive of interest!" He looked a little flustered, "I was only making an objective observation." 

The Lord cleared his throat to mask an unbecoming snort. "And do you have any other 'objective observations' to make about the lady in question?" 

"Nay, I do not," replied the warden, narrowing his eyes, "and you have my consent to offer her the honor of penalizing my troublesome brothers." Haldir eased himself into a sitting position, "though I still intend to kill them." 

***

Rúmil and Orophin sat on a low branch near to the infirmary, waiting for Haldir to be released. They'd witnessed Lord Celeborn entering the building, he'd given them a curt nod, and apprehension filled their hearts. 

Though it was probable the Lord wished to see how his Captain faired, the brothers could not help but suspect that the visit would also include a discussion of their 'ultimate doom'. They exchanged nervous glances. 

"This is all your fault, you know that aye?" Growled Orophin. 

Rúmil turned up his nose and crossed his arms. "Please! Without your contributions this situation would have never gotten so far out of hand!" 

"My contributions?" Demanded the younger warden, "I'll have you know that without 'my contributions' you'd probably be laying in that infirmary yourself recovering from a sound, and _just_ I might add, beating at the hands of that poor maiden." 

Rúmil scoffed. "Poor maiden indeed! She hits harder than you do," a slightly dreamy expression passed over his face, "fiesty thing, that one." 

"Spare me the commentary on your twisted little fantasy world, _if you don't mind_," huffed the younger Elf, "we need to put our heads together and come up with a way to diffuse this situation." 

Rúmil seemed to ignore his brother. "I think she might have even bruised one of my ribs, it..." 

"Will you focus _please_!" Snapped Orophin, smacking his sibling on the forehead. 

"Ow!" Protested the elder warden, shooting his brother a glare, "brute." 

Orophin released an exasperated sigh, was it too much to ask that Rúmil take something seriously every once in a while? "Are you going to help me or not?" He demanded at last. 

Rúmil tilted his head and seemed to ponder for a few moments. He thoroughly enjoyed how easily Orophin seemed to get himself worked up. It certainly didn't take much at times. 

"Alright, I'll help," he replied finally. At worst he didn't suppose they could do their situation any _more_ harm. 

Celeborn emerged from the infirmary smiling. To most it might seem a warm, friendly sort of smile, to Haldir's younger brother's it spoke only of wicked fate. 

"My lord!" They chirped in unison, doing their best to feign cheer. 

"Well met once more, my good Marchwardens, will you follow me to the upper halls please?" He too sounded cheery, though his was genuine. 

The brothers slid down from their perch and eyed the Lord of the Golden Wood with scepticism. "May we inquire as to nature of this invitation, my lord?" Asked Orophin. 

"No," replied the Lord with a broader smile, "you may not," and with that he set off briskly, expecting them to pursue. 

The brothers exchanged more nervous glances before following. "What now?" Hissed Rúmil. 

Orophin frowned. "Let us wait and see what he has planned before we take any action, if worst comes to worst, I'll improvise." 

"Dear Eru," moaned the elder brother, "we are surely doomed!" 

***

Andúnil found her footsteps once more gracing the flets of Lord and Lady's court. She mused at the oddness of her coming here twice in one day when often decades would pass in between former visits. But this, she reminded herself with a weary sigh, had been anything but a 'normal' day. 

There had come a knock on her door, as the sun began its lazy descent toward the western horizon. Guardedly she had answered its noise, fearing what she might find on the other side. Blessed be, it was only a young-eyed warden come to summon her to the upper halls. She followed him willingly, her ire long subsided, and was curious to know why she was wanted. 

Andúnil followed her guide right up to the room that she recalled was where Lord Celeborn kept his office. The maiden clutched at her mantle subconciously, feeling an unexpected bristling of her nerves. The warden knocked politely on the door and they waited to be admitted. At length the door opened and Andúnil found herself being considered, once again, by a pair of cool, grey eyes. 

She met Erestor's gaze evenly, holding her chin up to show that he did not intimidate her. Really! What was this game of his? For weeks he skulks around Caras Galadhon completely unkown to her, then after a brief meeting she is forced to endure him thrice in one day? Confound him too! Him _and_ his insufferable superiority. Why could he not be Glorfindel? Now _there_ was an Elf she would not be sorry to have to endure even a _dozen_ times in a day. 

"My Lord Celeborn, your guest has arrived," Erestor's monotone pulled her back from her thoughts. 

Andúnil was admitted and her guide bowed and dismissed himself. She was greeted by the Lord's friendly smile, but felt bile rise in the back of her throat when she spied the other two occupants of the room. 

"Should I leave, my lord?" Asked Erestor. 

Celeborn shook his head nonchalantly. "Nay my friend, that will not be necessary unless you should desire it, your council may yet be called upon in this matter." 

The Imladris Elf bowed his head in consent. "Then I shall remain." He claimed a spot sitting at Celeborn's right. 

"Wont you have a seat good lady?" Offered the Lord of Lórien. 

Andúnil accepted the offer, sliding into a seat before his desk. Nervously she glanced over to the brothers, sitting glumly in a far corner as if a pair of naughty children. What was happening here? Had she done something wrong? Suddenly she remembered the unfortunate scene with Rúmil, it was possible Erestor had witnessed some or all of the affair. Perhaps he had relayed the information to her Lord, and she was now to be held accountable for assaulting a warden? 

"I can explain my lord!" She cried, rising quickly from her chair. All eyes in the room turned to fix her with a puzzled look. 

"Explain, Madame?" Queried Celeborn, frowning. 

"Yes, please! Allow me to explain before any judgements are made, I beg you!" She gave the Lord a pleading look. 

Erestor, who up until that point had managed to conjure up an expression resembling mild confusion, suddenly stiffened as a realization dawned upon him. "Madame, I feel that you should know that I did not..." 

"Thank you, Lord Erestor," she interrupted snidely, "but _you_ have done _quite_ enough already, I assure you." 

Celeborn frowned more deeply at her tone. "Now see here Andúnil, there's no reason to speak in such a fashion to..." 

"No, no my lord, it is quite alright, if it is my silence the lady wants, then she shall have it," he straightened and raised his eyebrows, "please continue with your aforementioned explanation, Madame." 

Andúnil seized the offer gratefully. "Well you see I was very frusterated and angry when I realized that we had lost the Captain again," she began, "and I suspected that Haldir's brothers might be playing a joke on me, so I was further displeased with the pair of them," she sighed, "I know that it does not excuse my actions, but perhaps it does explain them? Perhaps you will not banish me?" 

Celeborn found himself at a momentary loss for words. The brothers, who had by now realized what was going on, began to snicker. Erestor had the nerve to look subtly amused. 

"My good lady," the Lord replied at last, "I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about." 

"You don't...?" She trailed off looking to where the Counsellor sat silently, "but I thought you-he..." Erestor returned her gaze, offering no explanation. Was it Andúnil's imagination or did he just wink at her? 

"But of course, now I am _highly_ curious," continued Celeborn, "wont you please inform me of what, apparently, only _I_ am not aware of?" Ah, so he _had_ remarked Rúmil and Orophin's snickering. 

Andúnil paled. "I'd rather not, if that is permissible my lord." 

"I am afraid my dear, that at this point, it is not permissible," teased the Lord, "I beg you, enlighten me." 

"Well, I-I..." she glanced over at Rúmil and Orophin, they were attempting to look contrite and failing miserably, "I may have given Rúmil a bit of a poke in the middle." 

"A bit of a poke?" Demanded Orophin, incredulous. Celeborn silenced him with a sharp look. 

Andúnil felt the tips of her ears turn pink. "Well alright, perhaps it was more than just a 'poke', but at the time I felt he deserved it!" 

"And now?" Asked Lord Celeborn. 

"Now, I..." she tossed another look over her shoulder, Orophin's head was bowed and Rúmil was leaning into a fist, grinning. Andúnil swallowed her irritation and faced her Lord. "Now I believe I regret the action, I should have handled myself with greater decorum." 

Celeborn nodded. "And what say you over this affair Counsellor, I am to surmise that you were already aware of these circumstances?" 

"Indeed I was, my lord," Erestor replied smoothly, "quite near the oddest thing I'd ever witnessed in all actuality," he turned his gaze upon the Lord of Lórien, "she ran into him, then punched him, and then he kissed her and she called him an Orc." 

Celeborn's lips twitched. "Is that so." 

"Quite," replied the Imladris Elf. 

"Well," said the Lord after a moment, "there you have it, shall we now discuss the business at hand?" There were no objections so he continued. "Andúnil, Haldir and I would like you to be the person to select a punishment for Rúmil and Orophin, we give you this 'honor' for it is understood you were quite unfairly dragged into the middle of their little scheme and suffered some...grievances, as a result." He looked at her expectantly while she digested his words. 

"Oh," she replied at length, "well, I see." It sounded too good to be true, Andúnil snuck another glance over her shoulder at the brothers. They looked perfectly horrified. "Lovely!" She exclaimed looking back to the Lórien lord, "I'd be more than delighted to assist you in this matter, how long am I given to decide on a penalty?" 

"Well, they are off duty for the next three weeks, perhaps you can conjure up an idea before they must return to their patrol?" He suggested. 

"With pleasure!" She replied. 

"If I might make a recommendation my lady?" Came Erestor's voice. 

Andúnil smiled at him. "You most certainly may, my lord," was her cheerful response. 

"It seems a shame for a near full flask of orcish-whisky to go to waste." He offered. 

Andúnil gasped. "Erestor! You are brilliant!" She exclaimed, quite forgetting herself. 

The Counsellor shrugged one shoulder, looking as composed as ever. "I know." 


	10. Plotting, Penance & Puddles

  
  
**Author's Notes**  
Thank you all for your continued support :)  
This wont be the most compelling chapter yet, just one of those ones that sews everything together a bit better. 

I'm hoping to be able to update sooner than a week from now, but I guess I'll see how smoothly this move goes.  
But stay tuned! I promise some Glorfindel interaction next chapter, and the arrival of a couple new players. 

Anywho, here's ten...  
~ Liomi ~ 

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Plotting, Penance & Puddles**

"Anytime you desire to have a brilliant epiphany over what we should do, please, inform me!" Grumbled Rúmil, seemingly not his usual, chipper, self. He and his younger brother were making their way briskly towards their home. 

"I am sorry, my brother, but I do not believe there is any way to avoid this punishment, save for self-inflicted exile from Caras Galadhon," Orophin replied with an exasperated sigh. "And do you know who is at fault for all of this is?" 

Rúmil rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, I know, it is _all_ my fault." 

Orophin stopped abruptly and turned to his sibling. "No, the mischief was your fault, this unfair punishment is _Erestor's_ fault." 

"That's _Lord_ Erestor to you warden!" Snapped Rúmil, doing a splendid impression of the Counsellor's voice and haughty demeanor. Both brothers cackled, finding themselves _most_ amusing. 

Rúmil grabbed his brother's arm and continued walking, leaning in his head in a conspiratorial manner. "What we need to do is thank him for his lovely advice to Andúnil." 

Orophin grinned, a spark of interest in his eyes. "I agree! What do you suggest?" 

"Well you see, it just so happens that the little flask isn't the only thing in my possession that contains a portion of orcish-whisky!" Whispered the elder sibling. 

Orophin's eyes widened. "Oh? Do tell!" 

"Being the mischievous sot that I am, I secreted a bit of the stuff away," here he paused and indulged in a cheeky grin, "I had meant to give it to the twins as a begetting-day gift." 

Orophin snickered. "To drink or to sneak into other people's drinks?" 

Rúmil shrugged. "I had not yet decided, but that is beside the point, now I believe it is the Counsellor who should be the recipient of my generosity." 

"Oh no! That is a terrible idea! He will know straight away that is was us and then we shall be in even _greater_ trouble!" Exclaimed the younger sibling. 

"It is not a terrible idea, it is a brilliant idea. Ai! You have so much to learn!" Rúmil sighed in annoyance. "Trust me, if we are careful there will be no way he, or anyone else, will be able to prove that it was us, and without proof of the deed there can be no punishment for it, do you follow?" 

"That is an _awfully_ large risk to take, my brother, I am not certain this would be the wisest way in which to 'thank' Lord Erestor," cringed the younger. 

"It isn't about wisdom, my dear child, it's about poety!" Insisted the elder. 

Orophin snorted. "Poetry? How so?" 

Rúmil lifted one brow and shot his brother a disapproving look. "And Haldir says _I_ am the dense one!" He shook his head in wonder, "the poetry is in Erestor suffering the same fate to which he so kindly sentenced us, can you not see the beautiful irony in that?" 

Orophin considered that, then nodded. "Aye, I suppose." 

"Do not fret my little one!" Chirped Rúmil with confidence, "I shall think of a foolproof method of delivery!" 

~ * ~

"Isn't it the most beautiful ring you've ever seen!" Squealed Lirinwen, her hand vibrating as she bounced. Andúnil was trying to appreciate the bauble, but was having quite the time at it seeing as her sister couldn't seem to stop wiggling like an agitated squirrel. 

"Yes, dearest, it is a very fine ring, and it looks well on you," she smiled, attempting to hug the tittering creature. 

Lirinwen responded with a crushing embrace, still managing to hop about though Andúnil was rooted to the ground. "I knew he meant to bond with me! I just knew it! And now see? See? Here is the proof of it!" 

"It does seem that you were correct my love, and it pleases me that you are so content," replied the elder sister with patience. 

The younger Elf-maid threw herself dramatically onto the bench in their parlor with an enraptured sigh. A moment later she scrunched up her nose, torn from her delirium. 

"Dear Eru, sister, what is that horrid stench?" She demanded tartly. 

Andúnil frowned. "Do you not remember our foul-smelling guest from yesterday morning Liri?" 

Lirinwen stood and shot the bench a nasty glare. "Indeed I do, but you could you not have washed the padding? It is positively rancid!" 

"I _did_ wash the padding," sighed the elder maiden, "but apparently it wishes to linger for a while, we shall just have to make do until it decides to shove off." 

Suddenly Lirinwen grinned and Andúnil was not so certain she liked the catty nature of the expression. "While we are on the subject of 'our foul-smelling guest from yesterday morning', I've been meaning to ask; why was that partially disrobed Captain fellow laying atop you?" 

"Not for the reason you are thinking!" Scowled Andúnil, "that is merely the fashion in which we ended up after falling asleep, or in his case, falling unconscious," she looked down her nose with imperial dignity, "there is nothing between us, I assure you!" 

Lirinwen pouted and cocked her head to one side. "I think you are aiming to be miserable on purpose sometimes Andú, I truly do," she pulled her elder sister down onto the smelly bench and sat beside her, "I should like you to be as happy as I am, and as far as males go, that one cleans up nicely and is held in high regard by our people." 

"I am hardly miserable, my dear," huffed the elder maid, "and frankly I think I'm a bit too old to be concerned about such youthful pursuits as chasing and being chased by any sort of male," she punctuated this statement with a prim nod, "Haldir does clean up nicely, but no more so than any of the other insufferable prats I've been saddled with this past week I assure you!" 

Lirinwen's curiosity was piqued. "_Other_ insufferable prats? Pray tell me dearest, of whom do you rant?" 

"Lord Erestor for one!" Her sister's eyes widened, "and also Haldir's horrid younger brothers, Rúmil and Orophin, the former of which _kissed_ me I might add! Without my permission if you can imagine such a thing!" Scoffed Andúnil, "and then there's also Lord Glorfindel, but he is neither insufferable nor a prat, he's just plain lovely but far beyond _my_ reach...and I most certainly _do not_ rant!" She ranted. 

"That's, well..." Lirinwen paused to gather her thoughts, "...that's quite the handful!" She declared at last, "and out of these five Elves, _only_ Lord Glorfindel meets your standards? Surely not! What is wrong with Lord Erestor?" 

Andúnil shrugged. "Smug and insipid." 

"Rúmil?" 

"There are not words enough." She growled. 

Lirinwen blinked, but accepted the answer. "And Orophin?" 

"Rúmil's brother!" 

"This is a character flaw?" The younger maiden looked confused. 

"Have you _met_ Rúmil?" Demanded the elder sister. 

Lirinwen rolled her eyes in disgust. "_You_, my sweet sister, are _impossible_!" 

Andúnil gave her sibling a pretty shrug. "It matters little, after today the brothers will never come near me again, and as it is, Lord Erestor never would have," she appeared almost satisfied with herself, "but let us speak on brighter things, will you and Tiniond only wait one year before you bond, or more?" 

The younger sister ignored the question meant to bait her, quite a feat in all actuality. "What do you mean they will never come near you again? What did you do!" 

Andúnil sighed as if the whole affair was really quite tiresome. "Lord Celeborn and Captain Haldir elected me to name a punishment for them, as they poisoned their brother with some form of malicious liquor, so I decided that they should have to split the remainder of the liquor between them and suffer its ill effects." 

Lirinwen gasped. "Such a cruel fate!" 

"It was Lord Erestor's idea!" Protested the elder maiden, crossing her arms defensively, "and he is quite experienced in the matter of dictating punishment to delinquent Elflings!" 

The younger maiden examined her sister for a moment, her brows furrowed. "I've changed my mind," she spoke at length, "you do not deserve the attentions of any nice Elf-lord, you are far too vicious and surly, it would serve you far better to sit in your little parlor sewing and finding fault with everyone who looks your way! Why, I wouldn't even wish you upon a _mortal_ you nasty old hen!" 

Andúnil looked away and sniffed in disdain. "Speaking of Elflings," she muttered. 

"Say what you will Andú! But anyone who takes pleasure in doing cruel things to nice wardens, especially ones kind enough to favor her with kisses, doesn't merit their time of day!" Lirinwen stood from the bench and stalked off to her room in a huff. 

"Hen indeed!" Stewed Andúnil upon her smelly bench. 

~ * ~

Haldir watched with satisfaction as Orophin gagged and retched, dropping his half-full goblet of whisky on the floor. The liquid spread across the wood, burning a black stain into the planks wherever it passed. Rúmil too was observing, his own goblet still full and untasted in his hand. But he did not look satisfied...distraught, apprehensive, fearful even...but not satisfied. 

"Bottoms up little brother," urged Haldir sweetly, even as Orophin lay twitching and unconscious. 

Rúmil paled. "I'd really rather not actually, if it's all the same to you." Haldir growled. "Fine, fine! Just tell me it isn't as bad as it looks!" 

Haldir smirked. "It isn't as bad as it looks." Rúmil nodded and gulped from his cup bravely. "It's worse," added Haldir after his younger sibling began to keck and sputter. 

Grinning from ear to ear, the Captain arose and one by one dragged the limp bodies of his brothers to their beds. He stripped them of their tunics, boots and weapons and lay each one sprawled out atop his quilt. Rúmil's eyes were glazed over and he'd begun to drool profusely. Orophin was still twitching. 

Haldir sighed happily and picked up his little travel bag on the way out of their house. Lord Celeborn had generously offered to let the Captain take up temporary residence in the guest quarters at the upper hall while the younger wardens were in their 'smelly' stage. Haldir, for his part, was much improved thanks to the healer's herbs and a good nights rest. No longer did he stink or stumble on uneasy legs, and his heachaches had long vanished. Unfortunately he still blacked out from time to time, but considering how much worse things had been, he was willing to accept occasional bout of unconsciousness. Whistling happily under his breath, the Captain made up the platforms, subconciously careful not to wander too near the main stairway. Suddenly the scenery began to look a bit familiar and it caught his attention. He looked about curiously, wondering to himself why this little residential cluster should warrant his notice. And all of a sudden it hit him, or rather _she_ hit him. 

~ * ~

"Oof! Does _no one_ whatch where they are going anymore!" Demanded Andúnil in a miniature fit of hysterics. 

One would think our lovely leading lady had had another accidental head-on, but not so this time! There was no one to blame for this little impact other than the bemused Haldir who'd been far too engrossed in scrutinizing the houses sitting just above his eye level. He'd missed seeing her standing at the bottom of her steps, scrapping bird droppings from the bottom of her shoe no less, and gave her an unexpected bunt in the rear. 

Andúnil toppled forwards, as she'd been rather hunched over, but she managed to catch herself from landing face-first into the shrubbery. She glared daggers at Haldir. "You again!" 

He opened his mouth to reply, horror apparent over his expression, and promptly fell unconscious. 

"Sweet Elbereth!" She moaned, sitting in a heap next to the comatose Captain, "why me? Why? What have I done to deserve this?" Begged the maiden, addressing the heavens above. She felt as though she ought to cry. But she did not cry, instead she resigned herself to a longsuffering sigh and considered what to do. 

"Well, I suppose I'll just have to get Liri to help me carry him," she huffed, picking herself up and dusting off her skirts, "darned delicate males and their blasted fainting." 


	11. Here Comes Trouble

  
  
**Author's Notes**  
Thank you all for your patience! 

I've been very eager to get back online and start posting chapters again now that I'm all settled.  
I hope this new one isn't a disappointment! 

My work new schedule is very demanding, but we'll see if I can't do at least three a week. 

Anywho, here's eleven, enjoy!  
~ Liomi ~ 

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Here Comes Trouble**

"Well, I imagine we ought to bring him inside...again," sighed Lirinwen as she stood next to her sister. Both maidens were studying Haldir's collapsed form, hands on hips, brows furrowed. 

"No!" Protested the elder maiden, "I'm done with entertaining this lout and his ilk! We are _not_ bringing him inside!" 

"Andú, he isn't a naughty housepet that might wet on the floor, this is the _Captain_!" Argued the younger Elf. 

"How do you know he wouldn't wet on the floor? He certainly stunk all over the bench last visit!" 

Lirinwen shot her sister a reproachful look. "Then what do you suggest we do?" 

Andúnil seemed to consider the situation for a moment longer, then addressed her sibling once more. "I haven't any notion as to where he houses himself, so we shall just have to drag him over to the upper hall!" 

"But someone might see us!" Protested the other, "I don't fancy having anyone watch me dragging him about, that is _not_ dignified!" 

"Then we shall simply take him around to the garden entrance!" Huffed the elder maid, crouching down beside him. 

"But that is the _longer_ route!" Whined Lirinwen. 

Andúnil glared at her sister in irritation. "Are you going to suggest something better then? If not cease your complaining and help me roll him onto his back." 

Lirinwen exhaled in disgust and lowered herself onto her knees. Together they pushed, lifted and tugged at the heavy body until they managed to turn it over. Andúnil noted that he looked much improved since the last time she'd seen him, and also that he smelled far better. 

Lirinwen followed her sister's gaze and indulged in a satisfied little grin. "Quite fetching isn't he?" She teased. 

"I hadn't noticed," muttered the elder sister, scooting down to position herself at Haldir's feet. "You may take the arms, they ought to be the lighter half," she added, balancing his little travel bag on his stomach. 

Lirinwen watched her sibling grab the warden by the ankles and stand. Sighing, the younger maid settled herself behind his head and considered where it would be best to place her hands. If she grasped his armpits his head would dangle back and he might awake to an intimate, inverted view of her pelvis, but if she took his elbows she worried about knocking his head against the ground or snagging his hair on something. At last she decided that the armpits seemed the safer way to go about it, but as she was not eager to chance a nose to nether-regions encounter, she concluded she'd rather carry his bottom half. 

"Might you be persuaded to switch?" Asked Lirinwen, "I think I'd rather take the lower bit after all." 

Andúnil rolled her eyes. "Yes, fine, what ever pleases you!" 

The maidens switched ends and Lirinwen happily lifted his booted feet. Yes, this was a vast improvement. 

Andúnil paused and considered what to grab on to, coming to near the same conclusions as her sister before her. At length she shot the younger maid a nasty glare, which was answered with a cheeky little smile, then turned around and gracefully hoisted him up by the armpits. At least if he awoke he'd be looking at her backside and this suited her far better than the alternative. Lirinwen pouted a bit, envious she hadn't considered that position. 

Their progress was slow and careful, but still they managed to smack his rump on several steps. Andúnil argued with her sister to grab him by the knees instead, but was promptly rebuffed. There was simply no circumstance under which the younger maiden was willing to seat herself that close to the apex of his legs. Bitterly they argued over it for some time until at last the elder sister agreed to switch places with the younger again. When at length they reached the court of Caras Galadhon both maidens were flustered and weary. 

They entered through the small archway and Lirinwen deposited her burden on the flet with a relieved sigh. "At last!" She breathed. 

"What are you playing at? We can't leave him here! Someone might step on him!" Protested Andúnil. 

"Am I the only one who has been carrying this massive creature?" Argued Lirinwen, "trust me sister! No one will be able to miss seeing him!" 

The elder maiden stomped a foot. "Now see here! There is a nice little bench only one or two flets up, we can set him there and...why are you giggling?" 

Lirinwen's face was buried in her hands as she stood staring at her sister, her shoulder's twitching with mirth. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous you look right now?" She gasped in between breaths. 

Andúnil frowned and refused to look down. She was well aware of the picture she painted standing rigidly between the Captain's legs holding him up by the knees, the upper half of his body sprawled out before her. And she didn't care to dwell on it _or_ be reminded of it. 

"Do you ladies require any assistance?" came a sultry voice on their left. Both maidens snapped their heads in the direction of the sound. Lirinwen stopped giggling abruptly. Of course it was Glorfindel, it wouldn't do for any lesser Elf to catch them in this act of oddness. 

"Madame, I must insist that you unhand me at once!" Came yet another voice. Andúnil looked down in horror, Haldir, arms crossed over his chest, was glaring up at her in indignation. Quickly she dropped his knees and jumped back. 

Haldir rose and dusted himself off hastily, looking to all three faces for an explanation. "What is the meaning of this?" He demanded. 

Glorfindel remained silent, glancing from one maiden to the other in the hopes they had a suitable explanation to offer up. "Now see here!" Spoke up Lirinwen, "that's no tone to be taken with the kind souls who just finished hauling your not so slender buttocks up two levels of stairs!" She glared at Haldir, poking a finger in his face, "you'd best be grateful we didn't just leave you to rot outside on our doorstep for anyone to trip over!" 

Haldir raised an imperial eyebrow and crossed his arms again, leaning down to glare back at the upstart. "Well if I was on your doorstep why did you not just bring me inside instead of 'hauling my not so slender buttocks' up to the hall?" 

"Because Andúnil was worried you might wet on the floor!" She shot back. 

Haldir blinked, rendered momentarily speechless. 

"I had no part in any of that, I assure you Captain!" Interjected a wide-eyed Glorfindel. Andúnil blanched in horror. "Liri my love, you must really try to think of what you are about to say before it comes flying out of your mouth." She risked a glance at the Captain, who was clearly somewhere in betwixt confused and insulted. "And if I may, Marchwarden, it might behoove you to settle your nerves before you faint again." 

Haldir's jaw dropped. "I _do not_ 'faint'!" 

~ * ~

"Hello?" Called a curious voice as the door creaked open. Two dark heads poked through the opening, flitting their eyes about the sitting room. "Is anyone here?" The voice, belonging to the head on the left, called out once more. 

"Ai! What is that horrid stench? Methinks there is a rotting Orc carcass hidden in the cupboard!" Complained a second voice, belonging to the head on the right. Both crinkled their noses in disgust. 

"I think we've caught them not at home," concluded the left. 

"Hm! Shall we mess it up a bit in here then to let them know we stopped by?" Asked the right. 

The left nodded. "Oh aye, one should never waste a perfectly good opportunity to mess things up a bit in other people's homes while they are away!" 

"Quite so!" Agreed the right, and they entered together, shutting the door behind them. 

"Where to start?" Wondered the left. 

"You ought to begin out here, I shall poke about in the bedchambers!" Decreed the right. The left nodded and both went about their business. 

"Ai! Elladan! Come quickly! Orophin is dead!" Cried a voice from the first bedchamber. Quickly the Elf in the sitting room rushed to join his brother. 

Surely enough, there lay the warden in question atop his bed in nothing but his leggings, a great odor emanating from his unmoving person. 

Elladan cocked his head and scrutinized the supposed corpse, then shook his head. "Nay brother," he stated at length, "see how he breathes?" 

Elrohir looked terribly relieved. He reached out and clasped his Lórien friend on the shoulder, shaking him vigorously. "Wake Orophin! Wake!" He urged. But Orophin did not wake. 

"How odd," remarked Elladan, who was well known for stating the obvious. 

"What do you suppose is the matter with him?" Asked Elrohir, jabbing his finger none too gently into the center of Orophin's forehead. 

"I could not say! Should we check the other rooms for his brothers?" 

Elrohir nodded his approval and they went next to Haldir's room, but it was quite empty. Wearing matching frowns the brothers proceeded into Rúmil's chambers, and there found him in much the same manner as his younger brother. 

"How odd," remarked Elladan once more, "they are both unconscious!" 

Elrohir wasted no time in treating Rúmil to his previously employed 'waking' methods, which involved shaking and prodding. "Ew! Why must he drool? That is _so_ distasteful!" 

"Be cautious brother, do not strike him too hard or you may live to regret it...again!" Warned Elladan. 

Elrohir eased up slightly, recalling a rather unpleasant morning by the side of a campfire when he'd been too forceful when rousing this particular Elf from reverie. They'd neither of them been able to look each other straight in the eye for weeks afterward. There mere thought of it brought a foul taste to his mouth, or perhaps that was just from inhaling too much of the fetid air. 

"This house smells horrible!" Declared the ever-helpful Elladan. 

"Lets take ourselves up to the court and see what new ladies are attending Grandmother, shall we?" Suggested Elrohir, giving up on waking his slumbering friend. The twins left in a hurry, slamming shut the door behind them in their haste. 

~ * ~

"Would you care for some wine? I brought some iceberry vintage with me from Rivendell," offered Glorfindel after Haldir had made himself comfortable. 

The warden sighed dejectedly. "I'm afraid I must decline, it's likely to have an ill effect on my behavior, perhaps we could drink tea instead?" 

"Tea, yes, I believe I would prefer tea myself," replied the Golden Lord quickly. 

Haldir had no doubts that his host would _not_ actually prefer tea, but Glorfindel seemed a gracious and considerate sort. After the 'incident' in the hall earlier, the Rivendell Elf had politely invited the Captain in for a drink, and Haldir had politely accepted. 

"Tell me, how is business on the borders at present? Do you suffer many attacks?" Glorfindel changed the subject with an amiable smile as he busied himself preparing the tea. 

Grateful for the older Elf's tact, Haldir returned the smile. "Our borders are largely untested at present, though on occasion an Orc party is unfortunate enough to stumble too close." 

Glorfindel nodded, "it is much the same in Rivendell, though there are those among us who find the lack of excitement trying." 

"And rightly so!" Came an animated voice from the doorway. The two fair-haired Elves turned to face the intruder. 

Glorfindel frowned, there was not one, but two of them. "Does it not ever occur to you both to knock before you enter someone's private quarters?" Haldir, looking as though he'd swallowed a lemon, said nothing. 

The twins exchanged a smile and sauntered into the parlor where they each claimed a seat on either side of the Lórien Captain. 

"Wonderful to see you again aswell Glory!" Quipped one. 

"Our journey here was fair, thank you for asking," grinned the other. 

Glorfindel pursed his lips and clasped his hands behind his back. "There is a faintly unpleasant odor surrounding your persons, what sort of mischief have you been up to?" 

The twins exchanged another glance, the one on the left reached around Haldir and punched the shoulder of his brother. "So _that_ is why the attendants avoided us!" 

The twin on the right rubbed his shoulder and scowled at the other. "That hurt," he complained. 

The left twin ignored his brother and turned to address Haldir. "It's all your brothers' fault you know, they stink and they wont awaken!" 

The right twin, his pain forgotten, nodded in agreement. "It is true, Elrohir even thought they were dead." 

"So did you!" Scoffed Elrohir, narrowing his eyes. 

"I most certainly did not!" Retored Elladan, "if you will recall it was I who pointed out that they were breathing!" 

"Enough, please," interrupted Glorfindel, "the Captain and I are not interested in listening to the two of you bicker, and furthermore, you are henceforth to stay away from both Rúmil _and_ Orophin during this visit." 

"Why?" They demanded in unison. 

"They are being punished and are not allowed visitors," replied Haldir gruffly. 

Two sets of grey eyes widened in curiosity. "Punished?" They gasped. 

"What did they do?" Asked Elrohir. 

"And what did you do to them?" Inquired Elladan. 

"That is none of your affair, you will put the matter out of your head, understood?" Frowned the Golden Lord, giving both a reproachful look. 

"Understood," they replied swiftly with matching angelic smiles. Neither of the fair-haired Elves had any hope for their obediance in the matter. 

~ * ~

The Elf-maids sat quietly in their parlor sewing. Lirinwen noted that her sisters' ears were still pink at the tips and her jaw was tightly clenched. She felt a pang of sympathy for the elder maiden, Andúnil had suffered much humiliation and vexation during the course of the past few days. But the younger sister was resigned to keep believing that it was all good for her elder, Andúnil's orderly life had been far too tepid. 

"Andú, have a care, you'll ruin the cloth," Lirinwen spoke kindly, offering her sibling a quiet smile. 

Andúnil ceased stabbing at the silken fabric and shot her sister a hard look. "Perhaps I do not care if it is ruined," was the tart reply. 

"I am certain that you will care later on when your anger has passed and that fine weave is beyond use, mayhap we ought to lay down our sewing and take a turn out of doors?" 

Andúnil cast her work aside with a disgusted sigh and folded her arms across her chest. "I dare not go outside, who knows what sort of mischief would befall me," she grumbled. 

"Dearest, I know you've had a troublesome time of late, but refusing to go out on behalf of what _might_ happen is quite silly," Lirinwen chided gently, "but I will not force you if you are truly opposed." 

"I am going to lay down," snapped the elder, standing suddenly and making for the doorway to her bedchamber. 

Lirinwen watched her sister depart with a sigh, subconciously twisting the narrow silver band on her finger. As much joy as Tiniond brought her heart, so did Andúnil bring her equal sorrow. She knew how things would be when her betrothal was over and she joined with her beloved. Lirinwen would go and make a home with him, and Andúnil would be left alone to her sewing and her quiet little parlor. It was common for Elf-maids to keep their own home, but yet the thought of her elder sister living alone for the remainder of eternity was upsetting. 

It occurred to Lirinwen that she might be in a position to do something about her sister's lack of prospects. She'd never attempted any matchmaking before, but really, how hard could it be to bring two people together? Certainly love had come easily enough for herself and Tiniond, could it not also be so for Andúnil? Though the elder sister was not as romantic as the younger, she was a loving being. 

"But who to pick? Who indeed!" She mused aloud, tapping a finger against her chin. 

Immediately a vision of the Captain sprang to mind, for other than her own beloved, it was his face she'd seen most often of late. But would they suit? Haldir was infamous as the staunch bachelor with an appetite for solitude and immeasurable arrogance. The pairing might result in far too much argument and clashing of tempers, they were in many ways far too similar for their own good. In any case that one was a bit on the 'burly' side as far as Elves went, Andúnil deserved someone more elegant. 

Then Lirinwen remembered the Captain had a brother, and hadn't Andúnil remarked that he'd kissed her? If that was not indicative of interest then what was! And yet, it seemed as though the elder sister hadn't much appreciated the attention. Lirinwen struggled to remember what she could of the Elf in question, what was he called? Ah yes, Rúmil, that was it, fair haired like his elder brother, but slighter in build. Lirinwen also recalled that of the three of them he was the one who spent the most time dancing and carrying on. She wasn't certain if that was a promising thing, Andúnil didn't much care for socializing, they were likely too different to suit well. 

Yet was there not also a third brother? Ah, best perhaps to leave well enough alone and forget the males of that family. It seemed to Lirinwen that her sister might prefer someone of a different station after all, for wardens spent much time away from home. If only the elder maiden went round more often! She hardly knew anyone. It crossed Lirinwen's mind that Andúnil might be familiar with some of the tailors and weavers, but the younger maiden couldn't think of a one that she approved of for her sister. 

Andúnil was, however, very openly fond of Lord Glorfindel. Lirinwen considered the likeliness of this match for a moment before shaking her head firmly. No, even if the great Elf-lord could be bothered to come down from his pedestal to court a maiden, it wouldn't be someone like her sister. Elf-lord's like him bound themselves to accomplished, extraordinary ladies, great scholars, warriors and artisans. Maidens of great beauty or great deeds, not homebody-seamstresses like Andúnil. 

Was there not another name the elder sibling had spoken earlier? Ah yes, Erestor. She'd called him smug and insipid, not a promising start to a relationship, but at least it proved Andúnil had considered him enough to commit a couple of his personality traits to memory. But drat if he wasn't in the same category as Glorfindel, being counted among the more prestigious of Elrond's court. Yet there was little mention of him among the gossips, and the bit she'd seen of him didn't indicate any great appetite for social pursuits. If only Andúnil could look past all that dispising nonsense they might make a fine pair, and to be sure he wasn't completely unfortunate looking. 

Well, perhaps he was worth looking into. Lirinwen resigned herself to making a few discreet inquiries about him and meet him if she could, to see what he was about. She hoped he suited, for there really werent any other potentials that came to mind. Still, she might ask Tiniond, he'd likely know a good Elf or two worth introducing to Andúnil. Yes, that is what she would do if this Erestor creature didn't work out. 

Finally knowing her mind on the matter, Lirinwen tidied up their sewing baskets and fetched her mantle. It didn't serve to waste time with the Rivendell party set to leave in three weeks time. Would that be long enough to secure a courtship? Lirinwen feared that it would not. 


	12. Sound Plans Gone Askew

  
  
**Chapter Twelve: Sound Plans Gone Askew**

Haldir was greatly regretting having accepted Lord Glorfindel's invitation. On either side of him sat the two chattiest, uncouth Elflings in all of Middle-earth, and even at the Golden Lord's not-so-subtle suggestions that they take themselves elsewhere, the pair seemed determined to stay. He glanced into his teacup, still a quarter full, but perhaps Glorfindel would understand. Haldir was about to interrupt Elrohir, who was recounting some lewd tale he'd heard from one of his Ranger friends, and excuse himself, when there came a knock at the door. 

Quickly Glorfindel jumped up and shot Elrohir a warning glare that was supposed to serve in silencing the younger Elf. It worked, though moreso due to the twin's curiosity, as both he and his brother leaned foreward to get a good view of who was at the door. 

There stood a young Elf-maid, a look of great surprise on her face when she beheld the Golden Lord. "Oh my!" She gasped, "Lord Glorfindel! Whatever are you doing here?" 

"Well Madame, these are my quarters, so it is not so very odd that you would find me here," he replied. There was something of apprehension in his voice and eyes, he recognized this little maiden from the earlier 'incident' in the lower hall. Haldir also recognized her, and frowned. 

Unfortunately the twins were not as dense as would have been convienient in this circumstance. They noted to themselves the unease of the other two Elf-lords and exchanged a conspirational grin. 

Elrohir stood and approached the doorway. "Will you not introduce us to your lovely visitor my lord?" 

Elladan rose also and followed his brother. "Indeed, for we have not yet had the pleasure of making her acquaintance." 

Glorfindel frowned at glanced at Haldir. Haldir shook his head slightly and shrugged one shoulder. Glorfindel frowned more deeply and looked back to the maiden who was carefully scrutinizing the twins. 

"I am afraid I myself have not yet had the pleasure of this lady's name," he waited expectantly for her to respond. 

"Oh, yes of course," she blinked at last, tearing her eyes from the dark-haired brothers, "I am called Lirinwen, and I have come seeking Lord Erestor, are you certain these are not his apartements? The Sentinel I spoke to gave me very concise directions." 

Glorfindel openned his mouth to reply, but was hastily cut off by Elrohir. "You are seeking Lord Erestor? Now that is an odd thing indeed is it not my brother?" 

"It certainly is! I do not believe I've ever heard of such a thing, a maiden purposely seeking to find Erestor, whatever is this world coming to?" Agreed Elladan. 

"Forgive them my lady," spoke up Glorfindel, shooting the offending Elves a hard look, "too much time spent in the company of mortals has sullied their manners, these are Elrohir and Elladan, the sons of Lord Elrond, and I am sure you are already familiar with your Captain, Haldir." 

"It is an honor to make your acquaintance my lords Elrohir and Elladan," she responded evenly, "and though you might find it odd that I seek Lord Erestor, I do seek him just the same." 

Glorfindel was eager to have her on her way, he didn't care for the interest the twins were showing at her arrival. "You will find his quarters one suite over, my lady," he told her with a polite bow. 

"I thank you my lord," she responded with a small curtsey, "I apologize for the intrusion on your privacy," with that said, Lirinwen nodded to Haldir, then turned to leave. 

"But my lady!" Protested Elrohir, causing her to pause in her retreat, "we have only just come to meet, perhaps you might be persuaded to stay and take tea with us?" 

"Indeed!" Added Elladan, "I for one am very eager to hear why it is you seek Lord Erestor, it is no common thing for a maiden to _want_ to speak with him." 

Lirinwen considered their invitation. It had not escaped her notice that both Haldir and Glorfindel were agitated, be it from the reminder of their earlier 'meeting' in the lower hall or the enthusiasm of these two strange siblings, she knew not. Lirinwen was inclined to think it may be a combination of both. Still, the allure of speaking with those so intimately acquainted with Erestor was strong, though she did not entirely approve of their manner. It occurred to her only very briefly to wonder why a gathering of male Elves were drinking tea instead of wine. 

"Surely the lady does not wish to sit and answer your inappropriate questions," growled Glorfindel. 

"Not at all, my lord," replied Lirinwen quickly, "I should be more than happy to oblige if no one objects to my company." 

"Oh," he murmured, "well, very well then, please, do come in," the Golden Lord stepped aside that she might enter. The twins exchanged a victorious grin and returned to their seats next to Haldir, much to his chagrin. Lirinwen accepted the chair offered and thanked Glorfindel for the tea he poured her. 

"I am most curious, my lords, why you should think it odd for a maiden to desire an audience with Lord Erestor," began Lirinwen, glancing between the two brothers. 

"I am certain the sons of Elrond were only teasing, my lady," cut in Glorfindel quickly, "there is of course no reason for anyone to avoid the Counsellor." Haldir found himself slightly amused by the direction that this conversation appeared to be taking, and poured himself some more tea. 

"Come now Glory!" Chirped Elladan, "you know perfectly well he has yet to meet a maiden that didn't either fear or dislike him near instantly!" 

"Aye, he is, unfortunately, not in possession of charm," afirmed Elrohir. Glorfindel looked utterly aghast at these bold statements, not to mention the use of the inappropriate nickname they took so much pleasure in calling him. 

"How is your sister?" Demanded the Golden Lord suddenly in an awkward attempt at subject change. 

Lirinwen suppressed a smile. "She is resting, my lord," was the reply, "this morning's labors were trying for her I believe." 

Glorfindel frowned and Haldir coughed on a mouthful of tea. The twins' eyes fairly bulged with curiosity. 

"Of what labors do you speak?" Asked Elrohir before Glorfindel could ruin the moment and change the subject again. 

Lirinwen glanced at Haldir and noted his frown. "Nothing of great importance, my lord," she replied, "just a bit of lifting, are you at all acquainted with my sister Andúnil?" 

"Nay, we are not," he replied, a note of disappointment in his tone. 

"That is a beautiful ring, my lady," tried Glorfindel again, "of Rivendell craftsmanship I do believe, when do you plan to be married?" 

Lirinwen smiled brightly at this compliment, it was nothing short of her favorite subject. "Yes indeed it is of Rivendell! Tiniond and myself are only just promised, we plan to be joined following next years autumn festival," she sighed, momentarily forgetting the company she was in, caught in her own thoughts, "if only I could see my sister so happily matched, my delight would be complete." 

"It seems to me that grown Elves with the sense to avoid marriage ought to be left to their own designs," grumbled Haldir, speaking more for himself than for Lirinwen's desire to have her sister paired off. It was a topic on which he was very passionate. 

"Quite so," agreed Glorfindel, "but there is no fault to be found in wanting good things for others," he added, shooting Lirinwen a pacifying smile. She frowned at their censure. 

"Is that why you're looking for Erestor?" Piped up Elrohir, as the idea suddenly dawned on him. Three other pairs of astonished eyes joined his in staring in shock at Lirinwen. 

The maiden pinkened at the tips of her ears, she cursed herself silently for not being as discreet as she had intended. She wished, not for the first time, that she was in possession of more tact. "Well, sort of, b-but not entirely," she stammered, suddenly anxious under the force of their stares, "she mentioned him to me that is, and since she is not in the habit of speaking about males, I though perhaps she might have an interest in him." 

You could have heard a mallorn leaf drop in the room. 

~ * ~

The room was silent and still, save for the movement of the Elf-lord's arm as he brought the wine cup to his lips and the darting of his eyes as he read from a tidy stack of parchments. All at once his solitude was threatened as the sound of raised voices drew near. The Elf-lord looked up and quirked one elegant brow, daring the voices to breech the sanctity of his pointedly shut door. 

"Are you certain he is not engaged at present? I can return later if the Counsellor is indisposed," came the sound of a feminine voice. It sounded vaguely familiar, but he struggled to place it. 

"Don't be silly my dear lady!" Responded a cheerful male voice, "he'll be thrilled to give you an audience!" 

"And even more thrilled that we are here to take it with you!" Added a near identicle tone. Erestor had only a moment to cringe inwardly before the door to his little study was thrown open. 

"Ernie!" Exclaimed Elrohir with a wide grin, "marvellous to see you again!" 

Lirinwen frowned slightly. She noted right off that the Counsellor did not look anywhere in the vicinity of 'thrilled'. 

"Have you missed us?" Asked Elladan with a cheeky smirk. 

"Perhaps we have come at a bad time," suggested the maiden, feeling quite ill at ease with the intensity of the Counsellor's glare. 

"I feel inclined to take this opportunity to remind you of the merits of knocking on doors before you enter someone's private apartments," was Erestor's monotone reply. 

The Elf-maiden looked noticeably disturbed by this censure, but the twins only grinned more broadly. She was beginning to believe this had been a terrible idea. 

"Perhaps next time, aye?" Replied Elrohir, plopping himself up on the corner of the desk, "but today we have a delicate matter of some great importance to discuss with you." Elladan nodded his approval at that statement, and ushered the reluctant maiden closer to the imposing Counsellor. 

Erestor folded his hands into the sleeves of his robe and waited for them to proceed without comment. Lirinwen marvelled slightly at his apparent tolerance of the twins' misguided manners. He certainly didn't seem the type of Elf to take such blatant disrespect from any being, and yet he seemed willing enough to indulge them. Albeit with very direct disapproval in his countenance. 

"Go ahead my lady, he is listening," urged Elrohir, smiling encouragingly at the maiden. 

"Well, I..." she began with uncertainty. 

"She would like you to consider courting her sister," Elladan supplied helpfully. Lirinwen paled at his bluntness and looked to the Counsellor in apprehension. This had all gotten quite carried away, not at all like the discreet inquiries she had had in mind. 

Erestor did not appear to react, and the maiden went from trepidation to bemusement as he sat there stone-faced and silent. 

"Her-her name is Andúnil," she stammered suddenly to break the quiet, "you've met her before." 

"Do not worry my lady, he is thinking on it," comforted Elladan, patting her hand with a charming smile. 

"Aye," agreed Elrohir, "be not discouraged fair one." 

Lirinwen had now returned to the opinion that this had been a terrible idea. Surely this severe, solemn creature would not suit her beloved sister, indeed she was not certain if there were any maiden to suit him. Andúnil had been right all along to dislike him, though smug and insipid did not seem to do him credit, he was more 'scary' and 'sour' in Lirinwen's estimation. 

"I must question why I have been offered this honor," replied the Counsellor at length. There was nothing in his tone to suggest he sincerely considered the offer an honor. 

Lirinwen opened her mouth to respond but Elrohir cut in. "The maiden is fond of you my lord, and favors no other." 

"It is no mark of great taste, to be certain," added Elladan, "but how often does a maiden take it upon herself to fancy you Ernie? I say you ought to accept!" 

Was it her imagination or did the statue's eyes narrow slightly at that comment? 

"I do not think that..." began Erestor. 

"Agree to this and you'll not see hide nor hair of the two of us until we leave the Golden Wood," interrupted Elrohir quickly, flashing his elder a sly grin. 

Erestor blinked. "Done," he replied without further hesitation. The twins shared a whoop of victory and clapped Lirinwen on the back simultaneously. It was all she could do not to topple over. 

How had it come to this? She wondered in a panic. Her mind was altered! She did not want him to court her sister any longer! This was surely a disaster! 

"Th-thank you Counsellor," she managed to sputter before the twins dragged her from the room chatting merrily between themselves. The maiden glanced back only once as the door was shut behind them. The grim picture of Erestor sitting imperiously at his desk, his eyes dark and hard like slate. It was an image that would surely haunt her for all eternity. 

Oh dear! Whatever had she done? And what was she to do to fix it? There was of course only one logical solutinon; find someone else to vie for her sister's affections against Erestor. But who? There was little time to seek out someone proper and suiting. She needed a good sort of Elf, prestigious enough to be a serious rival against the Counsellor's position, and proud enough not to cower or shirk from this great challenge. The thought of pride triggered an image of a particular male in her mind. He would have to do, there was no other his equal to be called upon in so short a time. And if Haldir couldn't foil the infamous Rivendell Elf, there would not be another that could. 

Resigned, Lirinwen clenched her fists. She had some more matchmaking to do. 

~ * ~

Rúmil awoke with a start, aware firstly of a great stench that filled the air, and secondly of the dampness pressed against his cheek. He groaned and tried to move without success, somehow his limbs had ceased to function. Or was it that he had lost the ability to command them to function? The haze of his mind puzzled over this dilemma. 

"Haldir?" He called weakly. It was supposed to have been a proper yell, but came out as a husky whisper. Rúmil was very put out. 

Two rooms over the youngest of the siblings was suffering a similar fate. Orophin lay motionless on his bed blinking rapidly, hoping this action would bring the room into focus. He was not entirely certain where he was at the moment, but it certainly was a smelly place. 

Slowly the minutes ticked by and the brother's improved marginally. Orophin was the first to heft himself into an awkward sitting position, but was greeted by a wave of nausea that sent him reeling into unconciousness and he promptly toppled off the bed. 

Rúmil heard the thump and managed to roll over. Briefly pleasure flashed through his mind at his successful escape from the dampness on his pillow. Then it ocurred to him he might be in danger. What was that thump? Where was he? Why couldn't he move properly? Why couldn't he remember what had befallen him? Was it too much to hope he'd been drugged and elf-napped by beauteous Elf-maiden waiting in the next room to pounce on him? He decided to go with that for the time being. 

~ * ~

"I would not ask this of you if it were not direly important my Captain," pleaded Lirinwen as she stood before a horrified Haldir. 

"Court your sister?" He demanded, "what has lead you to believe I would ever consider such a thing? It is entirely out of the question!" 

"She is not good enough for you then?" Snapped the maiden, her eyes flashing irritation. 

"I am certain, good lady, that it is quite the opposite," he replied quickly, clenching and unclenching his fists. 

"Then why will you not accept? For if you do not rival Erestor's suit no one will! Surely such an important and pleasant task appeals to you?" She urged. 

"Rival Erestor's suit?" He blinked. Much confusion and awe swirled in his mind. Erestor was intending to court a maiden? What sort of devilry was this? 

"Yes!" She confirmed with an exasperated sigh. 

"I am not certain I understand, my lady," he spoke hesitantly, "did you not desire the Counsellor to court your sister?" 

"Well, yes, I _did_," admitted Lirinwen with a guilty shrug. 

"Then why do you solicit me as a rival to him? I am afraid I do not understand your intentions," he tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brow. 

Lirinwen sighed again, a great, deep, sigh of desperation. "I had not realized they were so ill suited when I set out to match them, having now met the Counsellor, I can see clearly that my earlier desires to have them woo were utterly misguided." 

"I must admit I am surprised he agreed to it, I was certain that he would not," admitted the warden. 

"Well," frowned Lirinwen, "the Sons of Elrond can be, shall we say, 'persuasive'." 

"Ah I see," he nodded. 

"Aye, they promised him respite from their presences for the duration of their stay in Lórien if he agreed to the suit," she added. 

Haldir's eyes widened. "My good lady, for such a gift I would court Sauron himself!" 

Lirinwen put her fists on her hips and glared at the Elf. "Well, it is not in my power to grant you that!" 

The warden looked slightly disappointed, but matched her gaze evenly. "Then I am afraid I cannot aid you." 

The maiden scowled. "Is there nothing I can offer to tempt you? No service or token? Really my Captain, I am most desperate to succeed in this task, I am near enough to agreeing to most anything!" 

Haldir sighed in frusteration. Maidens! Why must they be so infuriatingly persistent? And why did he always get ensnared into their little plots and intrigues? He only wanted to be left to himself! Was it really too great a thing to ask? Perhaps it would be easier just to let in. He could surely get a fine service of this lady and would only have to waste a small margine of his time to make a pretense of courting her sister. Plus she would no longer try his patience with her counfounded female-persistance. Did the merits not out-weigh the sacrifices? 

After a moment of thought he concluded that they did. "Very well my lady," he proclaimed magnanamously, "I will do this for a price." 

"What is your price?" She asked quickly, worried he would change his mind. 

Haldir grinned slyly. Lirinwen had the sense to be concerned. 


	13. Froggy Went A Courtin

  
  
**Author's Notes**  
Thanks to all those still faithfully reviewing after my extended absence!  
I really appreciate your support **insert hugs**  
I've really enjoyed writing this chapter; beginning to illustrate the differences between Andúnil's two 'suitors' and their respective romancing techniques.  
**Laureline;** Don't worry, Haldir wont have it easy!  
Hmm, but then neither will poor Erestor... 

**Chapter Thirteen: Froggy Went A Courtin'**

"Enter," came the sound of a voice from inside the study. Glorfindel went in quietly and made certain to shut the door behind him. The sight that met his eyes was nothing short of perplexing. 

"Whatever are you doing Counsellor?" He demanded, warily scrutinizing the odd selection of tomes that Erestor was stacking neatly on his desk. 

"Research," replied the dark-haired Elf. 

Glorfindel frowned and strode forward to get a better look at the titles. "My friend, I cannot imagine what sort of research you are doing that would require so many volumes of romantic poetry." 

The Counsellor ignored this baiting remark and began to methodically sort through the reading materials, organizing them into neat piles. 

The Golden Lord plucked one of the tomes from the desk and held it up. "Have you ever even read a volume of romantic literature before?" 

The Counsellor fixed his friend with a haughty glare and snatched the stolen book from the other's fingers. "Nay, now kindly refrain from interfering with my filing process, if you wish to be of service you may return to the library and collect more samples." 

Glorfindel clasped his hands behind his back and frowned. "I shall, if indeed you will explain to me why you are doing this research of yours." 

Erestor did not look up as he replied. "I am going to court a maiden and I require preparation for the procedure." 

For a moment there was only stunned silence as the Golden Lord fixed the Counsellor with an amazed stare. Slowly his expression of surprise melted into an amused smile. He regarded his friend carefully, so busy with the precious piles of books. There were few moments he could ever claim Erestor to be naive in any matter, but it would seem that for all his learned ways, the Counsellor was still left ignorant in some aspects. It was both sad and strangely endearing. 

"Erestor, who is this maiden you fancy so greatly that you would go to such trouble?" Asked Glorfindel kindly as he seated himself next to the desk. 

"I fancy no one, but I have agreed to do this and I intend to do it to the best of my ability, as with any other challenge set before me," came the curt reply. 

A memory surfaced in Glorfindel's mind. "You have accepted the maiden Lirinwen's request?" 

"I have," agreed the dark-haired Elf. 

"I must admit I am astonished, I had not thought you would," Glorfindel frowned, "why ever _did_ you accept?" 

"The Sons of Elrond made me an offer I could not refuse," came the cryptic reply. 

"I see," replied the Golden Lord. But truly, he did not see at all, the entire affair was most bizarre. "Would you care for some advice in the matter?" He added at length. 

The Counsellor was silent for a moment, but in due course he straightened and fixed Glorfindel with his attentive stare, "I would be grateful for any good counsel you have to offer me." 

~ * ~

Haldir knocked impatiently at the door of the modest little home, irritated with himself for agreeing to this. At length he heard soft footsteps and the door was opened to him, revealing a face as clearly written with irritation as his own. 

"Captain, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?" Was the venomous question. 

"I have come to take you for a walk, Madame," he replied frostily. 

Andúnil's anger began to fester under the surface of her emotions. So now she was a pet that needed to be taken for walks? Narrowing her eyes the maiden kept her voice as neutral and polite as she could manage. "I am afraid I must decline, Captain, I am currently engaged in a project." 

It was Haldir's turn to narrow his eyes. He didn't care at all for disobedience, especially after the bother of having to come all the way down from the Halls. Who did this maiden fancy herself to be that she refused him? "I must insist that you take a walk with me, your project will wait for you," was his terse reply. 

Certain that her ears were beginning to pinken as her ire rose, Andúnil otherwise maintained her composure. Why could a day not pass peacefully without having to suffer the presence of this infuriating Elf? And what did he mean by showing up at her home in all his presumptuous glory to make demands of her? The least he could have done was ask politely! 

"My project does not care to wait my lord, my apologies, but I must truly decline," she insisted. 

Haldir drew himself up to his full height and stared down his nose at her. "I do not recall asking you to walk with me, I recall informing you that you _will_ walk with me, unless you would deny your Captain?" Insufferable female! Why could she not simply submit? It was the fool's own fault he was forced to be stern with her! 

Andúnil reached back and ripped her mantle from its peg, she jerked it over her shoulders and slammed her door behind her, never once taking her eyes from him. So he wanted to walk did he? Fine! "Are you certain this is wise Captain? After all, an Elf in your delicate condition should probably be resting indoors," it was a cruel thing to say, but she relished the look of horror that crossed his face. 

"I am much improved, Madame, I assure you," he growled, thrusting out his arm for her to take. 

Gingerly she accepted the apendage and the warden steered them towards a garden spot. Silence hung between them as they strolled. Round and round the little garden they went, saying nothing as each stewed in their own indignant thoughts. 

"I must question why my Captain has brought me to this place to make circles in the grass, for I was certain such a forceful summons would have a greater purpose," spoke up the maid at length. She ignored the clearly incensed look he shot her. 

"Is it not apparent?" He demanded. Really, was she so dense that she could not see he was courting her? Did she think he made a habit of wasting his afternoons walking about in the greenery with sour-faced maidens? 

"I am afraid that it is not apparent, at least in my estimation," she snapped back. 

Haldir stopped abruptly and looked down at her. "I am courting you," he announced demurely, the tone of his voice gave Andúnil the distinct impression that he was expecting her to be grateful, "are you not aware that strolling in gardens is a common practice in matters of pursuit?" 

"Sweet Elbereth!" She exclaimed as she released his arm and jumped back, "whatever has possessed you to do such a thing?" 

"As is usual, Madame, it was a certain regard for your person that has 'possessed' me to give you my attentions," there, what maiden didn't like flattery? 

"Well perhaps I do not desire your attentions!" She spat back, crossing her arms defiantly. 

This possibility had not yet occurred to the warden. Haldir frowned deeply, there could only be one explanation. "You are still distressed from my unappealing visit on the night of the festival," he declared. 

Andúnil arched an eyebrow. So now he presumed to know her mind? 

"You must believe that I am most contrite for my behavior, I greatly regret the distress myself and my brothers have caused you good lady," he took a deep breath, "your forbearance does you credit." He finished. Apologies had never been his forte, but he was confident that one had been as good as any other. 

Andúnil's ire had settled into annoyance. As audacious as the fellow was, at least the apology appeared genuine. "I thank you for both your regard and your contrition Captain," she replied quietly, "but I do not desire to be pursued, I am sorry if this disappoints you in any fashion, but I assure you I cannot be swayed in the matter," that said, she bowed her head to him politely and hurried back towards her home. 

Haldir watched her go in confusion. Had he just been set down? Lirinwen would not be pleased by this turn of events, and he feared she may threaten to abandon her end of their bargain. That simply would not do. Surely there must be a way to approach this stubborn Elf-maid! Haldir refused to be deterred. 

~ * ~

There was a knock at the door. 

Andúnil answered it with trepidation. Haldir better not have followed her. Pale blue eyes met her gaze, and instantly all sense and self-composure melted away. 

He bowed to her and smiled. "My lady Andúnil, forgive my intrusion," spoke the Golden Lord. 

Elbereth help her, she would have forgiven him anything at that moment. Dressed casually in white with his glorious hair pulled back from his face, he looked both angelic and sensuous. Andúnil's stomach began to flutter. 

"No!" She replied quickly. Glorfindel raised an eyebrow and the maiden blushed. "You are not intruding that is," she corrected. 

His smile broadened. "I am glad to hear it, but just the same, I will not keep you long." 

Andúnil laughed nervously. "You may keep me as long as you wish!" The moment she'd said it, she regretted it. 

If the Golden Lord was amused at her expense, he did not show it. "You are very kind," he replied, "I still regret that we were not able to dance at the festival, and thought I might entice you to join me for the evening meal, if you do not have other plans." 

Andúnil knew at that moment that she was grinning like a fool. "Join you for the evening meal?" She squeaked, "I would love to!" 

"You do me great honor, good lady," he bowed and swiftly captured one of her shaky hands for a brief kiss, "until anon." 

Andúnil could not help the gasp that escaped her lips when he kissed her hand. Courteously he did not commented on it. She returned his farewell with a wide-eyed nod, and hoped he did not think her too foolish. Her skin burned where he'd touched her, but it was wonderful, and for the first time in many centuries, she had to restrain herself from squealing like an excited elfling. 

~ * ~

"So you see my friends, Orophin and I have been greatly abused and naturally we seek retribution," explained Rúmil. 

The twins, sitting far across the room with kerchiefs tied around the lower half of their faces, listened wide-eyed to the amazing tale. 

"As yet we are not enough in possession of ourselves to make anything of the situation, but we would hope you will assist us in this matter," added Orophin. 

The twins glanced at each other, Elladan nodded to Elrohir and the latter addressed the Lórien brothers with a hidden smile. "We will do this for a small price." 

Rúmil had expected the ultimatum. "You may keep any remaining liquid." 

The twins grinned behind their kerchiefs. "Consider it done," they announced in unison. 

Promptly, Orophin keeled over, unconcious for the third time that hour alone. 

~ * ~

Evening had fallen on Caras Galadhon, and though Andúnil found herself sitting primly at Glorfindel's table, she was greatly displeased. Apparently Erestor had also been invited to join the Golden Lord for supper, though it seemed an odd thing to the maiden. 

Glorfindel was polite and accommodating, and between the three of them, it was he that ended up doing most of the talking. 

The maiden accepted her plate with nervous thanks, certain she was once again smiling foolishly in the Golden Lord's direction. The once she chanced a glance at the Counsellor, he wore an expression that betrayed mild irritation. Andúnil wondered at this, did he object to her presence? 

"Oh my, this will not do!" Exclaimed Glorfindel suddenly. Two pairs of eyes regarded him in question. "I regret I have run out of iceberry, we shall have to drink something less palatable," he explained with a frown. 

Erestor jumped up, startling the maiden. "Do not be troubled, I have yet a bottle or two in my suite, I shall fetch one," with that said, he turned on heel and strode hastily from the room. 

Glorfindel smiled at the retreating form of his friend. "He is so very obliging, is he not?" 

"Indeed he is my lord," squeaked Andúnil. How was it she never ceased to feel the awe incited by this Elf's presence? Prolonged time in his company had done nothing to diminish or disuade the fluttering and nervousness she felt when near to him. It was most disconcerting. 

"I feel I must apologize for not mentioning I had invited Erestor to join us my lady, but it was his wish to be here when I told him you had accepted," spoke the Golden Lord. He watched her reaction carefully; a demure smile, plenty of blushing. This was not going as he had intended, he was beginning to question the validity of inventing some excuse to leave them alone. His presence appeared to be distracting her. 

Erestor paused in the center of his study. Something felt...odd. Carefully he scanned the room with a critical eye. Nothing _appeared_ amiss. Yet, he could not shake the uneasy feeling in the air. The Counsellor frowned and moved over to his wine cabinet, from which he retrieved a bottle. Taking one final glance about his rooms, he retreated, determined to pass it off as fancy. 

Glorfindel broke into an overly cheerful grin as the Counsellor returned. "Ah, Erestor, wonderful!" He exclaimed, taking the bottle from his friend, "have you yet tried our iceberry vintage my lady?" 

Andúnil replied that she had not as the Golden Lord poured them each a goblet of the pale, purple drink. 

"A toast?" Offered the exuberant blonde, he smiled at the maiden, "to your sister and her bethrothed, may they find every happiness in their union!" 

Erestor and Andúnil raised their glasses to this toast, and all three took an appreciative sip from their cup. Suddenly Andúnil felt herself beset upon by a great nausea, the muscles in her hand relaxed of their of volition and the goblet feel from her grasp. She noted both Erestor and Glorfindel crumple in their seats as she tumbled into the dark of unconciousness. 

Erestor experienced a brief moment of self-congratulations for his keen senses that had earlier warned him something was amiss, then pitched sideways. 

Glorfindel felt twinge of frusteration, this would surely not serve to amplify the maiden's affection for the Counsellor, then he slid forward off of his chair and under the table. 


End file.
